


There's Something About Dean

by DJ_Greg



Series: Who Can Love You Like Me? [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (But not as much as on the show), Canon Universe, Confused Castiel, Courtship, Crowley Being an Asshole, Dean Being an Asshole, Explicit Language, Gift Giving, Hurt Benny Lafitte, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Castiel, Season 8, Unrequited Love, funny (hopefully), sam is a troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10354266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJ_Greg/pseuds/DJ_Greg
Summary: Dean Winchester considers himself straight and always gets squicked when men try to hit on him. Unfortunately, one day Benny, Castiel and Crowley all at once decide to crash into his motel room and confess their affection for him.And so the competition over Dean's heart begins.





	1. Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, but hopefully the fic is comprehensible. Enjoy!

Castiel loved Dean Winchester.

Standing on top of one of the mountains in Zion Canyon (as humans called this place) he savored in beautiful view of orange stone walls and small plant-life covering the valley. A true masterpiece of his Father's creation. This wasn't the usual place Castiel would go to for a moment of peace, but the thought of going to heaven right now… to see all of the damage…

He closed his eyes and chased this thought away.

 _No, don't go there_ , Castiel reprimanded himself, _not right now_.

For the first time since getting out of the Purgatory, the horrible guilt that was crushing his whole being become subdued thanks to this simple realization: he loved Dean Winchester. It was a new and strange feeling. Castiel loved his siblings, despite all of the fighting that was ripping his family to shreds, he deeply loved them and wanted them to finally start getting along like they used to long time ago before Lucifer was locked in Hell.

What he felt for Dean was similar and completely different at the same time – just this need to keep him safe, be near him as often as possible, see him smile.

 _So this is how romantic love feels_ , Castiel thought.

Angels weren't created through sexual procreation like humans, so they had no need for entering romantic relationships. No wonder that until recently Castiel believed he couldn't even fall in love with someone. And yet here he was, a pleasant warm filling his whole being and chasing the guilt away. Looking back he knew that love for Dean gave him strength for fighting. How ironic: a multidimensional immortal being of pure energy finding a role model in fragile, short living human. But Castiel wasn't laughing, he was cherishing this moment of self-realization.

He wanted Dean to know. He wanted Dean to return his feelings.

And that's exactly what he was going to do.

Castiel gave one last look at the magnificent canyon spreading before him and glanced at a pack of birds flying in unison above him. He will return here one day with Dean, he promised himself, after winning his heart.

 

***

 

Benny Lafitte loved Dean Winchester.

It was a startling discovery as he never had attraction for another man, only for women. He walked down the street, looking around at people rushing through their lives. There were some enticing women, a particularly gorgeous one he noticed had a long, black hair and full, naturally red lips. Leaning against a cold wall of brick apartment building, Benny gave her a couple of glances, before realizing she looked like Andrea and fleeing.

Yes, there were many attractive women, but none of the men did a thing for him. Maybe he was mistaken? He cared for Dean, together they fought their way out of the Purgatory, always watching each other backs. Such experience brings people closer. However, that didn't explain why Benny was constantly going back to the memories of Dean smiling confidently, just having downed one of the monsters, machete swung over his arm. It's like he had just won in a lottery. He was stunning.

Benny sighted. There was no mistaking, this warm feeling spreading in his chest couldn't be anything else, but love. He used to react this way towards Andrea.

He walked ahead without a destiny in mind. When Benny was stuck in the Purgatory, all he could think about was getting out. Now he was aimlessly wondering the streets, while people around him rushed through their lives, talking on their cell phones, writing on those electronic devices (taplets, Benny reminded himself) and driving in expensive cars filled with gadgets. The world changes so much in all those decades and he was so lost, desperately searching for a reason to live. And for a couple of weeks he found it in form of his great-granddaughter.

Now all he had left was unfulfilled love for Dean Winchester.

He decided to pursue this feeling. After all, with Elizabeth gone from his live, it's not like he had anything else to do. And who knows, maybe he will find some happiness by Dean's side to fill an empty space in his heart?

 

***

 

Dean Winchester was hot and Crowley wanted to have sex with him.

In fact, he wanted to turn his favorite hunter into a kept boy and along with him _thoroughly_ explore all pages in the book of Kamasutra. Crowley could almost see it: Dean bend in enticing position, his naked body still shining from the sweat after their last fuck, craving to be filled once again with his Master's extra-three-inches long cock. Oh, surely he will deny it and throw some curses at Crowley, but after a few minutes of having his prostate prodded, the true feelings will resurface.

Crowley purred at this image in his head: Dean Winchester completely undone under him, skin flushed and sweaty, moaning like a whore in a brothel working for her newest payment.

With the decision made, Crowley moved to the bedroom in expensive apartment he was currently renting. Set on the last floor of 432 Park Avenue in Manhattan, this place would normally cost a small fortune, but he got it for free as a favor from his former client for not dragging her soul straight to hell, even though her ten years were up. Crowley could make an exception once in a while. At least as long as he was using this apartment.

He opened the closet and pondered for a moment, which one of the many black suits he should wear today? The one utmost left? The third from the right?

Giggling to himself, Crowley grabbed a random suit, threw it on the bed and shed the satin robe he was wearing.

Of course Dean Winchester considered himself straight and every demon knew how much of a difference that made for humans, but with enough coaxing his resistance will crumble. Only one thing could stand in the way of success: Dean's little infatuation with Castiel. For a straight man he sure liked to show affection towards his ‘friend’. However, Crowley didn't let it bother him too much.

After all, why would Dean go for the angelic boy scout when he could have the King of Hell?

 


	2. Sunday in the Park with Benny

“Seriously, what is it?!” Dean demanded. He was squeezing the beer bottle in his hand so hard, his knuckles turned white. “Why guys keep hitting on me?! That's the _third time_ today, Sammy, _third time_!”

A couple of people looked in his direction, which only fueled Dean's anger.

“I don't know, Dean” Sam responded calmly. “Things like that just happen.”

“Not to you! If you walked through a gay bar, no one would pay attention to you!”

Sam muttered thanks, but was ignored.

It was unbelievable! Dean flirted and enjoyed sex with women for almost twenty years by now, and yet here were all those men trying to drag him to bed!

 _Of course_ Sam acted like it wasn't a big deal, because it wasn't happening to _him_! And he treated Dean like an idiot too! He was constantly repeating in this obnoxious, understanding voice that “ _you couldn't tell just by looking at someone if they were straight or gay_ ” and that's why all those men were flirting with him.

Well, clearly you _could_ tell, because _nobody_ tried going after Sam. They _knew_ he was straight.

“Help me out, Sam” Dean pleaded. “What men find so attractive in me?”

“I don't feel comfortable answering this question.”

Dean slammed the bottle on the bar counter and turned to face his brother.

“Is it my plush lips? I know they look girly—”

“For the love of…!” Sam snapped. “Dean, I _don't want_ to talk about your lips! It's like we were transformed into one of Becky's crappy fanfics” he leaned closer to his brother to prevent anyone else from hearing “and knowing ours lives _it's_ _possible_. So every time you have a sudden urge to talk with me about your plush lips, steer away from it, okay?”

They sat quietly for a moment with Dean fuming and taking his anger out on the poor bottle. Around them the other clients kept chattering, drinking and playing pool. It was a busy Friday night, even in such small town like Leavenworth, Washington. After a rough hunt for a pack of werewolves, Dean dragged Sam to a bar, even though his whiny brother wanted to just take a relaxing bath and catch some sleep, maybe watch a soap opera and get a manicure done like a gigantic pussy he was.

Dean had none of it, so here they were, sitting at bar counter and soaking beer. The evening started pleasantly enough with three women catching Dean's attention. Unfortunately, just as he was getting off his stool to talk with one of them, a burly man appeared out of nowhere and offered to buy him a drink. Dean admittedly reacted like a complete moron, assuming that the guy just wanted to chat and maybe play pool, despite the fact that situations like this happened to him _all the freaking time_. So yes, technically Dean had nobody else but himself to blame, when the man eventually offered to take things “ _somewhere more comfortable_ ”. But that didn't make the situation any less annoying.

Dean took another swig of beer and looked at Sam, who was checking news on his laptop.

“Seems there's no new cases” his brother summarized.

Which meant a short vacation. Better make good use of them before some monster figures that _nah_ , they had enough rest and starts wreaking havoc.

“Not complaining” Dean said. “So what do you want to do with our free time?”

Sam face lightened up.

“Oh, I've seen an advertisement about newest exhibition of rare manuscripts in Kansas—”

“No, Sammy!” Dean groaned. “Let's do something exciting! I don't want to drive hundreds of miles to watch some old books nobody cares about!”

“A lot of people care about them, that's why each is worth thousands of dollars.”

Dean looked at him in shock.

“Really? That much?”

“Yeah”.

He nodded with approval and then leaned closer to Sam to whisper into his ear: “You know, if we stole and sold one of those books, we'd be set for a couple of months...”

“Dean!”

A chuckle escaped Dean's throat. His brother was so easy to wind up!

“Okay, so what _you_ want to do?” Sam asked.

Taking another chug of beer, Dean pondered the question and a long list of naughty things filled his head. However, before he could tease Sam again, a loud ring came from his right pocket. He fished out a blue, flip cell phone he’s been using for past two weeks after last one was tracked by cops. The caller's name caused Dean to raise his eyebrows: “BENNY”. That was unexpected. They haven't spoken since their last meeting in Carencro when vampire pretty much stated it's best they stay away from each other.

After a moment of hesitation Dean answered.

“Hey, Benny”.

“Long time no hear, brother” responded a deep voice with Cajun accent.

“Nothing stopping you from calling more often”.

Benny sighed heavily on the other side.

“I figured after what I did to you friend, you wouldn't want to talk with me again” he admitted. “You made it clear back in the Purgatory that you hate monsters, especially those who hurt people”.

Yes, it was Dean's life philosophy instilled in him by his father: if you see a monster, you kill a monster, simple as that. It was irrelevant how little threat they posed to people, they _could_ pose a threat and that's what mattered. For years he followed this motto like a good little soldier, but nowadays he found himself questioning it more and more often.

Because the fact remained that Benny killed only to protect Elizabeth, a completely innocent person caught in a crossfire.

“It's not like Martin left you much of a choice” Dean noted.

“He didn't” Benny admitted sadly.

“But you called me regardless. What changed your mind?”

There was a long silence on the other side.

“Benny? You okay?”

“Uh… Sorry, brother. I was just, uh, wondering w-where are you right now?”

That's new: a fearless vampire who fought his way out of the Purgatory sounded nervous.

“I'm in Leavenworth, Washington. Me and Sam were taking care of some problems here. Why?”

“I need to speak with you about something” Benny explained. After a moment he added: “It's not a conversation on the phone. I can get to Leavenworth on Sunday. You okay with that?”

“Sure. We have some free time anyway”.

“Then I'll see you the day after tomorrow. Take care, brother”.

Dean hanged up and slipped his cell phone back into pocket. As much as he was looking forward to seeing Benny again, the phrase “ _it's not a conversation on the phone_ ” usually meant troubles. With lots of research and some powerful son-of-a-bitch to kill.

“What did he want?” asked Sam.

Dean finished his beer and slammed empty glass on the counter.

“I'm afraid our little vacation might be cut short”.

 

***

 

The Front Street Park was packed with visitors who came here to watch the concert of a local group that Dean didn't give a damn about. Well, “packed” was a strong word for three rows of people sitting in the plastic chairs brought by the organizers, with the next two rows being empty. Right now the performers were preparing their equipment in a big gazebo used as a stage.

 _Ladies and gentlemen, new Lew Zeppelin is being born right in front of your eyes_ , Dean smirked. He moved past the crowd and looked around for Benny, but didn't notice him anywhere yet. With five more minutes ‘til their set date, he continued strolling.

Last two days passed without any new cases arising, which was unusual, but very much welcome. You won't see Dean complaining that people don't get slaughtered by monsters. While he did enjoy hunting (despite all of the problems that were a part of job description), in his opinion a couple of boring, _safe_ days was a good exchange for lack of unnecessary deaths.

Dean looked back when the performance started in the gazebo. To be fair the group was fine, but he didn't feel like sticking around. _Nothing_ beats classic rock. Once again he scanned the surrounding area and with one minute left Benny was approaching.

“Hey, brother.”

“Good to see you again” Dean gave the vampire a friendly tap on his shoulder. For a brief moment Benny twitched as if he wanted to lunge at him, before simply responding with a smile instead. It was probably just Dean's imagination.

They started walking, moving away from the concert behind their backs.

“So, why did you want to meet?” Dean started.

Benny opened his mouth, but no word came out. After a couple of seconds he chuckled nervously, scratched his head and looked at Dean with embarrassment.

“Uh… Just wanted to see my buddy, that's all” he explained.

“Okay” Dean responded. “I thought you needed help again.”

“No, no, no.” Another nervous laugh escaped vampire's throat. “I've been wandering a bit after out last meeting, searching for something to do with myself, but nothing came up.” Benny went silent. “I started feeling lonely and you're the only person I know anymore” he added eventually.

Dean nodded with understanding.

Loneliness was something he felt a lot in his life. Sam repeatedly made it clear he wanted to abandon hunter's lifestyle and in consequence Dean, while Dad was always distant. There was also a year he spend with Lisa and Ben. Although Lisa was always there to comfort him after another nightmare, when he was shivering and crying like a child, and Ben treated him like a hero, they couldn't relate to what he went through.

How much worse was it for Benny, a vampire who refused to kill? Not human anymore, but unable to find place among those of his kind? After being forced to leave Elizabeth behind, Benny had nobody left.

Nobody, except for Dean.

Okay, that was just too overwhelming. Feeling his heart speeding up, Dean smiled cheekily.

“Now that's a lie. What about Cas?” he asked.

“You might think I'm crazy, but I've got an impression he doesn't like me.”

“You're crazy.”

“Besides, he's a lot harder to get a hold of.”

Unfortunately, that was very true and Dean's humor soured a bit. He and Sam didn't hear from Cas since their failed attempt at saving his angel buddy – Salamander, wasn't it? - which happened three weeks ago. He repeatedly tried to call the cell phone he gave Cas before the rescue mission, but without luck. _“The phone you have called is currently unavailable”_. For all he knew Cas could be at the other side of the globe.

He was so sick of worrying. Couldn't that feathered prick call once in a while? Benny didn't have any problem with that and he wasn't “ _a multidimensional immortal being of pure energy the size of Chrysler Building_ ”.

Damn angel! He can go to hell as far as Dean was concerned!

Benny's voice caught his attention again: “You don't mind I came?”

“No, I'm happy to see you” Dean replied. “Just remember, when a new hunt shows up, I'll have to hit the road with Sammy again.”

Benny stopped and turned to face him.

“Actually, I was thinking: maybe I could join you two as a hunter?”

Not _another_ one.

“A vampire hunting monsters? That's the silliest thing I've heard in a while.”

“Why?” Benny rolled up sleeves and shook his muscular arms. “I've got strength. I could easily take both of you down” he added with smugness.

“Keep on dreaming. And besides brawns you also need brains for this job.”

“Is that how you split with Sam? You're brawns and he's brains?”

“Hey! I'm both, alright?” Dean shook his head in disbelieve. People always assumed he was the intellectually challenged brother. “Sammy might had gone to college, but let me tell you” Dean added with a confident smile, tapping his head with a finger “he doesn't know half of things I do.”

It was easy joking with Benny and a lot more enjoyable than Dean expected it to be. Without tension and uncertainty that filled most of their previous encounters, the two of them continued walking around the park, talking about everything and nothing. The sound of the concert carried over the trees and Dean found himself humming along more than once. Okay, so maybe the group was better than just fine. Whatever.

But yeah, Dean could get used to hanging with Benny. It was a nice change of pace to be able to speak with someone who wasn't Sam Winchester. He loved Sam, but often it felt confining to have only one person he cared about to keep him company.

He took a deep breath. Unfortunately, a life of a hunter didn't give him many opportunities to change that. He allowed himself to toy with the idea of Benny joining him and Sam, knowing too well that even if it happened, eventually something would chase his friend away.

Or worse.

There was no hurt in a little fantasy. After all, Dean didn't see any changes coming in his life in the future.

 

***

 

 _What the hell is wrong with you?!_ , Benny was kicking himself. _Just spit it out!_

He came to the Front Street Park with full intention of telling Dean how he felt, but the moment he saw the hunter – tall, muscular, stubble covering his jaw – his determination evaporated. All he could think about was: _You're about to hit on a MAN_. And that was it. When Benny opened his mouth to say the truth, the words just wouldn't come out. It's like someone stuck a rock down his throat, a very selective rock that allowed everything to pass _except_ for the confession of his feelings towards Dean.

Together they walked through the park and then wandered around the city for two hours. Dean told him about his latest cases, while Benny tried and failed to muster up some courage.

Eventually they ended up in front of the motel the Winchesters were staying in.

“I better get back and check if Sam drowned in his relaxing bath” Dean said.

A cold needles of panic pierced Benny's heart.

Crap, crap, crap! He fucked it up! Desperately stalling for time, he noted: “You still didn't say what you think about me becoming a hunter.”

“Honestly, I think that's a good idea.” Dean looked in the direction of the motel. “But you joining me and Sam, that's a different subject. It's not that I don't want your help” he added quickly, moving his gaze back at the vampire “but we've been hunting as a duo for such a long time...”

“It'll be safer with another person to help” Benny argued.

A faintest of smiles appeared on Dean's face, but only for a couple of seconds.

“I'd have to talk with Sam”.

“How about you do that” Benny jumped at the opportunity “and meet me later to give an answer? I could see you in the bar at eight?” He pointed at the bar across the street from the motel.

It would give him enough time to calm down and build up his determination again. However, before his friend could respond, a voice came from the motel “Dean!” and they turned to see Sam Winchester standing in the open door of the room number ten. He was looking at his brother with concern clear on his face.

“Something’s wrong, Sammy?”

“Cas is here” the younger Winchester explained and Dean's eyes widened in surprise. “He needs to speak with you right now. Apparently it's very important.”

“Another problem with Crowley?”

Sam shrugged.

“He didn't say”.

Dean turned back to Benny with apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry, but it seems our little vacation is over.” He moved toward the motel room. Right before entering, he looked back at the vampire and added: “I'll call you later.”

The door slammed behind the Winchesters, leaving Benny alone. He couldn't believe what just happened. He _wasted_ his chance to talk with Dean, because nerves got the better of him. Because _oh no_ , Dean is a _guy_. The burning anger erupted inside Benny.

 _Idiot, complete idiot!_ , he chastised himself.

This was terrible. In a matter of time Dean will drive away with Sam and who knew when they'll get another chance to meet? The idea of going back to his old routine and wandering around without purpose in live was horrifying, but Benny couldn't blame anyone else for screwing things up. He took a deep, calming breath and forced himself to move. No reason to stick around now.

Benny took only two steps before Dean's voice came from the motel room. He was shouting in horror:

“YOU WANT _WHAT_?!”

A couple of people nearby looked in the direction of the motel room. Benny froze in place, chewing on lower lip. Back in the Purgatory Benny learned that Dean was able to keep his cool even in the most tense situations and yet here he was, freaking out over something the angel buddy requested. It probably wasn't any of his business, but if he helped on a dangerous hunt, Dean and Sam would be more willing to take him as their companion.

And he'd be closer to Dean.

Curiosity won and Benny stepped closer to the motel room.


	3. Too Much Information

So here he was, standing in the middle of the room and wearing this serene expression that Dean wanted to punch of his face. It's like Cas _didn't_ leave them behind with a dead angel and a corpse to burn the last time they saw him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Oh, no, no, no! He _won't_ get away so easily.

“Look at who decided to finally show up” Dean snapped.

A deep satisfaction rushed through his body when the smile just fell of Cas's face.

“I understand why you're upset—”

“Really?” Dean interrupted. He had a lot of frustration to get of his chest and damn it, he was going to do it _now_. “And what is that reason?” He started counting on his fingers. “The fact that two weeks ago you left without a word after our failed rescue attempt? That you _always_ leave without a word, like it's so hard to say ‘ _bye, see you next time’_? Or the fact that you _stabbed to death_ the angel we were trying to save?” Dean smiled at his friend, but there was no joy behind the expression. “Tell me, Cas, which is it?”

“I can explain—”

“It would've been nice if you explained things two weeks ago before you left” Sam added seriously but calmly, being nowhere near as pissed off as his brother.

A long, ringing silence fell. Cas kept his eyes on the floor, unable to meet their glares. Part of Dean felt bad about the whole argument, but it was a small island in the ocean of raging frustration.

He already forgave Cas a lot. Consuming the monster souls, declaring himself a new God and threatening to kill them if they don’t kneel before him? In the end things turned out okay and Cas learned his lesson, so no hard feelings. Removing the mental wall from Sam’s head, thus releasing the memories of the year-long torture at hands of two pissed off archangels and driving him insane? Everyone makes mistakes, Dean most of all. But there were _limits_ of much crap he can take. Over his entire life he let many people – mostly Sam and Dad – walk all over him and take him for granted. He didn’t want Cas of all characters to treat him like that and the angel was already on his way to developing a habit.

 “I apologize. Both of you are right, I should have explained the situation before” Cas said, still not looking at them. He was using his usual matter-of-fact tone, but over the years of interacting with him the Winchesters were able to spot the little sighs of Cas’s true feelings: dull eyes, slumped shoulders… Whatever he was about to say, it was causing him a lot of pain. “While we were waiting for the two of you to join us, Samandriel attacked me. I suspect that Crowley’s torture did unrepairable damages to his being. He… he didn’t recognize as his brother and I had no choice” Cas finally looked at the Winchesters, his blue eyes filled with regret “but to kill him.”

To any random bystander Cas's dry and emotionless tone would seem like a definitive prove he didn't give a damn about Samandriel. However, Dean knew better: his brother's death really got to him, made worse by the fact that _he_ was the one who had to take his life. While in Dean's opinion angels were a bunch of winged dicks and a rare example of a decent angel (like Samandriel) didn't do anything to change his mind, to Cas they were all his siblings he deeply cared about. As much as it pained him to admit it, Dean could relate to that. Back when Ruby got Sam addicted to demon blood and his behavior spiraled out of control, Dean firmly stood by his side and helped him to get better. So no matter how much he hated angels, Cas cared about them and death of each of them was clearly killing him.

So now Dean felt like a complete ass and the tiny blotch of guilt from before rose to an enormous size like someone suddenly zoomed a camera on it.

“Okay, I overreacted a bit” Dean admitted. “It's just… It would be nice if you stopped leaving without a word. And” he added in a moment of brilliance “you could also start sending some messages to let us know you're okay. Then we wouldn't have to worry so much about you.”

As if on a cue Cas's content expression returned, although slightly subdued thanks to memories of Samandriel's death.

“Actually, this is the subject I wanted to discuss with you, Dean.”

The older Winchester knitted his brows in confusion.

“What? Texting me?”

“Staying in contact more often.”

Cas gave Dean one of those intense, adoring looks reserved only for him. The look that made him want to both run away and incapable of moving at the same time. His heart was pounding, because he _knew_ what Cas'll say before the angel even opened his mouth. Subconsciously he was aware for a long time that their interactions over the years were building to this moment, but in his stubbornness he never acknowledged it. So he could only stare in bewilderment as Cas said: “Dean, I love you and I want to enter a romantic relationship with you.”

If he didn't see Cas's mouth moving and hear the words coming out of them, Dean would never believe it. And he still couldn't.

“YOU WANT _WHAT_?!” he screamed, his voice unnaturally high-pitched.

Cas leaned closer and repeated: “I want to enter a romantic relationship with you.” He said it slowly and clearly to ensure Dean understood him this time. Dumbass thought he couldn't hear him and not that he was in _justifiable shock_ because _a guy just proposed to him_.

Dean looked at his brother, seeking help. Instead a new wave of anger flushed over him when he noticed that goddamned traitor struggling not to laugh.

“Something's funny?!” he attacked.

“No” Sam assured, but a chuckle escaped his throat. “I'm just _so happy_ for both of you. I've always believed you should be together.”

“Does that mean you're giving us your blessing?” Cas asked, beaming with happiness.

“Oh, more than blessing!” Sam moved toward the front door and grabbed his jacket. “In fact I'm going to leave you alone so you can discuss things” he gave his brother a pointed look before adding “ _lovebirds_.”

Dean was about to jump at Sam and tear him apart, when a familiar voice surprised them:

“Not so fast, Moose.”

They turned around to see Crowley sitting comfortably on the couch next to the front door, wearing his standard black suit with red tie and looking very pleased with himself. _Unbelievable_. After all of the crap he put them through recently – from practically lobotomizing Linda Tran and kidnapping Kevin to torturing Samandriel to the point when he snapped and tried to kill Cas – he had _nerves_ to show up here and act like he _owned_ the place.

Neither Dean nor Sam had a time to react, because Cas immediately brought out an angel blade and charge with determination on his face.

“Hey, wait! I'm not…!” Crowley panicked, raising his hands in defensive gesture. Cas didn't falter for a second and swung his arm, only for the blade to sink into the cushion where the demon's head rested just a moment ago. Dean looked to his left to see Crowley reappear on the opposite side of the room, visibly annoyed that he wasn't welcomed with an open arms. “How about you calm down and let me bloody explain why I'm here?” he demanded.

The answer was clearly ‘ _not a chance_ ’ as Cas flew right on front of him in a blink of an eye and attacked again. Crowley barely managed to catch the blade before it pierced his chest. Snarling and clenching teeth he struggled to push Cas away, to no avail. “A little help would be nice!” he growled at the Winchesters who enjoyed the show.

“Right!” Sam agreed eagerly.

Both brothers grabbed Crowley's hands and started pushing the blade toward him.

“Oh, you fucking assholes!” the demon spouted.

Suddenly there was no more resistance and the blade hit the wall with an unpleasant screech, leaving a noticeable hole in the flowery wallpaper. Dean regained his balance and searched the room. Crowley was standing back next to the front door, straightening his clothes.

“Maybe I'll catch the boys when they're alone” he said dryly “since some _neanderthal_ cannot control himself.”

“You won't leave this room alive!” Cas proclaimed, readying for another attempt.

Dean put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to pause.

“Wait, let's find out what he wants.”

Cas lowered the blade, which earned him a satisfied smirk from Crowley. Feeling a bile of disgust boil inside his stomach, he spit out: “Start talking instead of wasting our time.”

“I'm here to bring you a good news, Squirrel” the demon explained. He lifted his head high like a true monarch who was about to give out a medal to his most deserving subject. Too bad for him that Dean didn't give a crap about praises from the King of _Hell_. “I've decided the other day that I want to take you as my kept boy.”

Dean's jaw dropped.

_A kept boy._

Crowley wanted him as a _KEPT BOY._

This was too much, just _too fucking much_. Yeah, men kept hitting on him all the time, but _this_ topped everything he had to deal with previously. Dean could feel cogs in his brain slowly turning around and struggling to process the information that Crowley, the King of Hell himself, just offered him a prestigious position of his personal fuck toy. Instead the cogs worked like blades, shredding his brain into a mush. And here he thought that Cas proposing to him was a mind-blowing revelation.

_A KEPT BOY._

How the fuck things even turned out like this? Dean tried to work through his every interaction with Crowley and for sure he _never_ gave him a reason to believe there was anything going on between them. At least with Cas he could notice some subtle hints – of course, they were all _accidental_ as Dean had _no_ _interest_ in hooking up with a dude, but they were _there_. When it came to Crowley he got nothing. _Fucking demons_ , thinking they can take whatever they want and never worry about anyone's opinion on the subject.

“Dean will never accept your offer!” Cas's voice sounded faint like it was coming through a wall. The hunter took a deep breath and forced himself to focus back on the conversation.

“I have a lot more to offer him than you do, angel boy” Crowley responded. He gave his rival a look over, paying a particular attention to the tousled hair, the crumpled trench coat and the dirty shoes. “Face it, you don't stand a chance” the demon proclaimed with smugness. Then he turned to Dean and gave him a _seductive wink_.

Since angels didn't have the same standards of beauty as humans did, Cas clearly didn't understand what was the purpose of Crowley's little inspection. However, he _knew_ he was being insulted and was genuinely angered. In any other situation Dean would crack a joke at Cas's obliviousness over humanity, but his brain still refused to work properly.

“Crowley, my brother isn’t interested in _any_ demon, let alone _you_ ” Sam rebuffed. Oh, so _now_ he felt like taking things seriously and stepping in to help.

“You’re sure about that? Why won’t we ask _him_?”

All three of them looked at Dean who wanted to drop dead right about now.

“Well, Squirrel? Only two candidates, which one do you prefer?” Crowley leaned closer and whispered: “Personally I’d go for the king rather than the pawn.”

Oh no, did they seriously expected him to choose if he preferred to be an angel’s lovebird or a demon’s kept boy? How on earth could he pick one? How about he stays his own, _straight_ self and all those men who keep hitting on him just _fuck off_?

He was about to tell that to Cas and Crowley, when the front door flew open and Benny stormed inside. Dean was never happier to see his vampire friend. Maybe he’ll piece the world back together after these _jerks_ decided to smash it into bits.

“Who said he can only pick between you two?!” Benny asked.

“For fuck’s sake!” Dean shouted. “You’re hitting on me too?!”

Benny stood there like thunderstruck, before lowering his gaze and coughing nervously.

“Uh, n-n-no…” he stammered. “I j-just think it’s selfish of them to a-a-assume that… uh, that they’re your only options, that’s all.”

Judging by his expression even he didn't find this excuse believable. Dean stared at him, remembering how agitated Benny seemed the whole day, chit-chatting about random shit and obviously dancing around the real topic he wanted to raise. Dean figured the vampire probably got in troubles again and needed help, like that time he went after his old buddies who send him to the Purgatory, but instead of pressing the issue, Dean decided to let him stove. To think  this was the reason he wanted to meet with him in the first…

In a sudden moment of brilliance Dean asked: “Wait, is that why you wanted to join us as a hunter?”

“What?” Sam gave him a shocked stare. “When did he say that?”

“Just a moment ago, outside the room.”

Dean turned back to Benny, awaiting an answer. Even thought the vampire didn't say a word, his kid-caught-with-his-hand-in-a-cookie-jar expression was enough. He _did_. He offered to join them on their way and become a hunter just so he could get closer to Dean and have a shot at getting into his pants. _Fucking peachy_. Apparently, acting like a complete creep was the way to go.

Crowley chuckled like hyena and clapped his hands in applause. “Oh, this is priceless! I haven’t had such good laugh in a long time! Here I was worried that the angel boy would be my main competition, but I didn’t think about some random vampire. Now I’m really out of chance!”

Benny snapped out of his embarrassment and snarled at Crowley: “Don't be sure of yourself! Me and Dean are comrades! We fought out way out of the Purgatory!”

“And I supported him for years in his fight against evil!” Cas joined.

“Except for your little god trip when you tried to kill him instead” Crowley noted.

Benny gazed in shock at Cas. Right, they never mentioned it to him.

“What is he talking about, brother?”

“You want to tell me he _doesn't_ bring it up?” Crowley asked. “That was the most epic meltdown I've ever seen!”

Cas stomped right in front of Crowley, fury burning in his eyes. Somehow the demon remained unimpressed, even thought Cas was absolutely terrifying right now, a rare moment when he looked like a true merciless soldier ready to smite the sinners. “You weren't speaking so confidently in my presence back then” Cas shot back.

Crowley stared at him with amusement. “Times change. Stop living in the past.”

“Dean will never choose an abomination like you over me! We share a profound bound!”

“That doesn't mean he _has_ to pick _you_ ” Benny joined.

The argument was spiraling out of control as the three men started walking in circle, trying to intimidate their opponents and delivering various proves of their superiority as a potential boyfriend. Fearing that soon they'll end up whipping their dicks out to compare the size – something that Dean _really_ didn't want to witness – he walked between them.

“Okay, calm down...” he said, only to be shoved out of the way by Crowley.

“Stay out of it!”

Benny snorted. “I can see how you've got the best chance when you treat Dean like this” he commented.

At his words Crowley stepped aside and lifted his head high. “You two can delude yourselves all you want, but in the end I'm going to win.”

“I'll prove my love for Dean and he'll choose me for sure” Cas announced.

“Not a chance. I'm going to win his heart” Benny assured them.

With those words Cas and Crowley disappeared, leaving the vampire alone in the middle of the room. He looked awkwardly at the Winchesters. “Uh… See you later” he said, before leaving through the front door.

Dean looked at his brother who was equally as dumbfounded. In the span of ten minutes he learned that Castiel and Benny were in love with him, while Crowley wanted to turn him into his personal bitchboy. Then they decided to start a fight over Dean like they were knights in medieval times trying to win affection of a fair damsel. And goddamned, was Dean seriously playing the damsel?

It was _too fucking much_ information to cover and Dean feared he won't be able to return his brain to its full functionality. Suddenly he felt a deep need to empty a Jack Daniels, but it probably wasn't the best idea, because Cas, Benny or Crowley might return and he had to keep his head on straight to deal with them. To deal with the fact that _three men_ had _hots for him_ and were _determined_ to win him over. Dean rubbed the palms of his hands over his face as if trying to chase away a bothersome nightmare. Yeah, that was a good explanation for what just happened.

“I must be dreaming” Dean decided.

Sam promptly burst into laughter. One of these days he was going to earn himself a punch…


	4. Courtship

The rest of the day passed without any new assassination attempts at Dean’s precious straightness.

Shifting on his bed to find a better resting place, Sam pondered for a moment if it was too mean to make fun of his brother’s concerns. After all he also felt a bit uncomfortable when men tried hitting on him, rarely as it happened. He tore his eyes away from the TV he was currently watching and looked across the room at Dean. In an instant he decided that no, it _really_ wasn’t mean, because whenever _he_ found himself in a similar situation, he dealt with it like a freaking _adult_.

Right now the older Winchester was lurking next to the window and peeking between the slats of the lowered blinds, presumably in the search of any evil ninja assassins trying to get inside and kill him.

Sam turned off the volume on the TV and put the controller aside.

“I don’t think you should focus so much on the window” he said, unable to stop himself. “I think they’re most likely to jump out at you from the closet.”

Dean turned on his heel.

“You know where you can stuff those comments?!” he exploded.

That’s pretty much how they spend the last couple of hours: Dean restlessly wandering around the room, looking outside and snapping at the smallest provocations. Once Sam managed to cause a major argument by merely rolling his eyes. He _knew_ he shouldn’t be provoking Dean, but he was unable to help himself. His brother’s behavior was ridiculous.

“Come on, Dean” Sam begged. “What are they going to do to you? Benny’s your friend and Cas adores you—“

“He doesn’t!”

Sam bit his tongue just in time, because he was about to spill out that Dean adored him too. Such comment would only lead another argument and he was getting tired of those.

The truth is as macho as Dean liked to act, he had a soft spot for Cas and frequently engaged with him in what can be only described as “ _having sex with their eyes_ ”: the two of them would just stand still and give each other those sweet, longing looks. Some of those “ _intercourses_ ” lasted up to five minutes. Yes, Sam timed it for pure entertainment , because it could get very tedious just waiting for them to finish and if he dared to interrupt, Dean was always ready with some snickering remark about how the world didn’t revolve around him.

“What I’m trying to say” Sam continued in pacifying tone “is that you can just tell them ‘ _no_ ’ and they’ll leave you alone.”

“What about Crowley?" Dean attacked. “I yet to see a demon with respect for people’s boundaries.”

“If he tries something, we always have Ruby’s knife.”

Dean stood there, breathing heavily. He didn’t seemed convinced and most likely would return to his routine after only a couple of minutes, but in the very least Sam dodged another argument.

Their conversation was interrupted by a flutter of wings and Cas appeared in the middle of the room. “Hello, Dean.” He gave the man a warm smile, then turned to the other one. “Sam, good to see you again.”

“Hi, Cas” the younger Winchester replied, scrambling up of the bed. Screw the TV, he was about to enjoy the real show. “Back so soon?”

“Yes. I couldn’t wait long to start courting Dean after finding out I’m not the only one interested in pursuing him.”

Sam hesitated. “ _Courting_?” It’s like someone zapped them back in time again and they ended up eighteenth century.

“Yes. I’ve researched human practices surrounding romantic love” Cas explained, confused by Sam’s amusement and Dean’s stunned expression “and to my understanding when one person is interested in pursuing another, they engage in ‘ _courtship_ ’. It’s a set of activities that are suppose to prove them to be the most suitable mate around.” When neither of the Winchester said anything for a long time, he faltered: “I probably mixed something up.”

Sam shook his head, trying to chase away the image of Cas dancing around Dean and displaying his feather in a mating ritual like some bird on the Discovery Channel.

“N-no, you got it right” he assured. “But before you start, uh, courting Dean, I’m sure he wants to tell you something.” With a pointed looked he passed the torch to his brother. Okay, as much fun as it was to see Dean squirm under the attention from other men, Sam decided it was time to play the responsible, supportive brother. At least a little bit.

Immediately Dean sprung into action: “Listen, Cas. I’m really” he paused for a moment to search for the correct term “ _stunned_ that you’re interested in me like this, but there’s no chance of us becoming a couple.”

Cas’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m not into men.”

Dean waited for Cas to accept his words, but when the angel kept looking at him in confusion, clearly not understanding what it had to do with him, he was forced to add: “And you’re man.”

“No, I’m an angel.”

“Whatever, _male_ angel. Same thing.”

Cas gave him a faint, patronizing smile.

“Angel’s weren’t created by two like humans” he said in a tone that a kindergarten teacher would use when dealing with a particularly dim student. “It’s impossible to speak about _male_ or _female_ angel, because no such things exists. Sexual characteristics are exclusive to species that procreate.”

“You have a dick!” Dean shouted, pointing vaguely in the direction of Cas’s crotch. “That’s a ‘ _sexual characteristic_ ’!

It was astounding how little Dean understood angel’s biology after years of dealing with them. They were sexless, genderless creatures of pure supernatural energy who had to use human vessels in order to interact with people without causing them any damage, but in the end still remained their own separate beings. The blue-eyed, dark-haired men Sam and Dean were looking at right now was _Jimmy Novak_ , a vessel merely used by Cas to communicate with them. While it was true that Jimmy’s spirit went to heaven after he and Cas were violently exploded into bits by archangel Raphael, so right now only Cas resided in this body, it still wasn’t his true form. Why Dean had such a difficult time understanding it? It’s not like he wasn’t smart, he built many complicated devices they used in their line of work and was capable of coming up with sneaky plans that more than once saved their lives.

Maybe the problem wasn’t with Dean not understanding the concept, but rather him freaking out when his straightness was threatened. In that case he won’t be able to deal without some help. Sam shook his head and stepped in: “What Dean meant is that _your vessel_ is male and because of that _we_ perceive you as a man.”

 _Now_ Cas got it. See, Dean, not so hard to explain.

“Exactly” his brother added. “We see you as a man and that’s where the problem lays, because I don’t have sex with men.”

For some reason his words once again caused Cas to look at him with confusion.

“But, Dean, we—"

“But nothing!” the hunter immediately cut him off. “I’m not attracted to men and that’s final!”

Cas moved his eyes between the Winchesters, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. He opened his mouth to say something, probably protest, but a stern look on Dean’s face caused him to give up.

After a couple of seconds Cas finally got it and the " _powering down_ " began: his shoulders slumped in defeat and the usually bright eyes became glassy like those of a porcelain doll. It was a sorry view and Sam couldn’t stop himself from wanting to comfort his friend, but he recognized Cas needed to hear the truth. Stringing him along and giving false hope would make thing worse in a long run.

However, much to Sam’s surprise Dean looked ashamed of himself.

“I understand know” Cas choked out. “It was foolish of me to believe you’d want to join me in a romantic union after all the horrible things I’ve done to you and Sam.”

 _What_?! Where the hell _this_ came from?

“Dude, that’s not what I’ve meant” Dean denied.

“You don’t have to explain yourself” Cas assured. “I was led by arrogance when I decided to confess my feelings. Forgive me, I won’t bring this again.” After a brief pause, he added: “All I can do is cause you troubles, just like when I declared myself a new God.”

In two long steps Dean moved right in front of Cas, his previous shame replaced now with anger.

“Listen to me!” he demanded, holding the angel by his shoulders. “ _I told you_ already that _I forgave you_ for the whole purgatory thing, so why the fuck are bringing it again?! This isn’t what we’re talking about. _I forgave you_ and so did Sam.”

“He’s right” the other man assured.

While it’s undeniable that Cas did many horrible things on his way to finding the Purgatory and then started murdering sinners after proclaiming himself to be the new God, in the end he did realize his mistake and helped to fix most of the damages. What also made easier for Sam to forgive Cas was the fact that he had good intentions: he only decided to consume all of the monster souls to become more powerful, because archangel Raphael was determined to kick-start the Apocalypse again and as a mere seraphim he didn’t have enough energy to stand up against him.

Besides, it would be very hypocritical of Sam and Dean to claim a moral superiority over Cas. They started the freaking Apocalypse in the first place, leading to death of thousands of people. It wasn’t something they could – nor did they want to – sweep under the rag and pretend it never happened. Yes, both demons and angels were manipulating them throughout their entire lives to get to that point, but Dean and Sam still willingly took every step, including making the deal with a crossroad demon, something Dean should know better than to do.

Unfortunately, despite the reassurance Cas remained unconvinced: “But you’re still disgusted with me” he insisted, looking at Dean with misery in his eyes.

“I spend an entire _year_ searching for you in the Purgatory, when I could’ve left at any moment! What, you think I enjoyed being stuck down there and having to face hordes of monsters determined to kill me?! _Believe me_ , I wouldn’t bother staying in the Purgatory if I was disgusted with you!” Dean’s expression softened. “I stayed there, because _I need you_.”

For all of his sneering about chick flick moments, Dean was very emotional. When someone he cared about was hurt, he always rushed to make them feel better. Who cared if Cas wanted to be his boyfriend? He was hurt, so here comes Dean Winchester, a heavy drinking, badass hunter who sleeps around like a five dollars hooker, to comfort him. It was kind of adorable, in a baby-deer-following-you-around-because-it-imprinted-on-you sort of way. Better not to mention it to Dean, though, or he’ll start another argument.

“And besides” the older Winchester continued, bringing up his signature playful smile “why are you giving up so easily? Am I not worth putting an entertaining fight over? Come on, have you seen those puppy eyes of mine? When I put my fought into it, I’m more adorable than a litter of kittens.”

A new wave of determination washed over Cas’s face.

“You’re right. I won’t disappoint you, Dean. I’ll fight with all my might!”

“That’s the spirit!” Dean shouted, pumping his first in the air. Only when he turned to Sam and saw his smirk, did his mood sour. But instead of starting yet another tirade about how he’s _not_ gay, Dean raised his head in a challenging gesture. “You’ve got anything to say?”

“Nope, nothing to add.” Sam shook his head. “It speaks for itself.”

Ignoring Dean’s murderous gaze, he focused once again on their friend.

“I believe now is the time to present my gift” Cas announced with newly reignited courage. “It’s not commonly known, but angels posses a great vocal talent as we spend a lot of time singing praises to our Father. As such I’ve decided to prepare a serenade dedicated to you, Dean.”

Sam stared at Cas in amazement, incapable of even laughing, because it was just _too freaking much_. “You wrote him a _love song_?” he managed to squeeze out. This was _much better_ than TV! A quick check revealed that Dean looked like he just swallowed a whole lemon.

“I’m afraid I didn’t” Cas denied. “As a Seraphim I lack any creativity. My Father gave me life to be a warrior, not an artist. Thankfully this isn’t true for all angels, so I asked a cupid for help. You might remember him, we’ve met him when dealing with Famine.”

“T-the one who a-acted like a twelve-year-old girl?” Dean stammered.

“I don’t posses knowledge how young humans behave, but we must be talking about the same one.”

Oh, this couldn’t get any more hilarious! After all those years that passed since they met Famine and everything that happened in between, Sam still vividly remembered the cupid in question: a short, chubby guy who pranced around stark naked (though luckily invisible most of the time), loved giving everyone hugs and was obsessed with romance. _And he was the one who wrote a love song for Dean_. A song that’s going to be presented by _Cas_ with his gravelly, monotone voice.

Sam had no doubts: this was _the best_ day of his life. It was worth putting up with all those monsters just to get here.

“I cannot use my real voice, because your heads would explode” Cas continued. “Fortunately, I found Jimmy’s voice to be very fit for singing.”

“Not when you’re croaking with it like this…” Dean murmured.

Sam gave him a snide smile. “So you think Jimmy Novak had a nice voice?”

“For _singing_.”

“Riiiiiiight.”

Cas cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to him.

“May I start?”

“Wait!” Sam shouted. He rushed to the night table and pulled out of the drawer a silver cell phone with a touch screen he never used on a hunt, only for his personal needs. After a couple of clicks he selected a recorder and pointed it at Cas to Dean’s outrage. He was earning himself another argument, but he didn’t care in the slightest. “Okay, you can go on” Sam said.

And with that prompt Cas started singing:

 

_Who is that freckled beauty I long?_

 

Dean gave out a long growl that sounded like a hog getting slaughtered. Sam held back laughter, trying to keep his arm with the cell phone steady.

 

_Who makes my heart beat so strong?_

_(Even though I'm an angel and I don't have one_

_But please ignore that point.)_

_Dean Winchester, that is his name_

_All of his merits I can declaim_

_Firm spirit and without lament_

_Always helping those in torment_

_He's known for his immense appetite_

_No matter how bad I cook, he'll take a bite_

_When he's around, I'm in full bliss_

_I might even give him a K-I-S-S_

 

On such a breathtaking note Cas finished singing and smiled expectantly at his audience. Since Dean wasn’t in a state to talk, Sam stopped the recorder, put his cell phone away and applauded.: “This is the best song I’ve ever heard!”

But aside from a short nod of acknowledgment, Cas wasn’t paying him much attention.

“Did you like it, Dean?” the angel asked.

“Oh, did he!” Sam responded. “It left him speechless! That’s a true sigh of appreciation! You need to know that in many countries, Japan for example, the quieter you are, the more you enjoy the show.” Of course he left out the detail that the USA wasn’t among those places.

His words did nothing to convince Cas who was getting more and more worried by Dean’s stunned silence. It spoke volumes about how uncomfortable the situation was getting when even someone as oblivious and unaffected as Cas could sense it. Usually he was the one making things awkward, instead of being on the receiving end.

The tension was unbearable, so Sam nudged his brother with an elbow.

“Yeah, the song… It was _something_ , alright” Dean forced out. However, his face remained stiff and emotionless, much to Cas’s concern.

Suddenly another voice joined the conversation: “I don’t think he liked it very much, my friend.”

All three of them turned around to see Crowley sitting comfortably on the couch just like yesterday, wearing a familiar pleased smirk. He was tapping his fingers rhythmically on a brand new, black suitcase he kept on his laps. While he always described himself as a businessman, for the first time since the Winchesters met him, Crowley actually looked the part. He reminded Sam of some rich executive who was about to close an important deal and make millions of dollars. But Sam didn’t let himself get impressed. Under that expensive suit and groomed features was just another demon, a soul darkened by years of torture in Hell who had to possess some poor man to be able to speak with them.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Dean growled.

“I brought a gift on my own” Crowley explained, slapping the suitcase. “There’s a competition going on, after all, and you’re the grand prize. I’m not going to lose.”

Dean smiled innocently. “Oh, you don’t have to participate. I’ll give you the results right now.” He stepped close to Crowley, bend over to be on the same eye level with him and screamed “NOOOOO!!!” right in the demon’s face. Then he straightened up and added: “If you didn’t understand any part of this, just say a word and I’ll repeat.”

Crowley only shook his head and kept smiling as if nothing important happened. He’s attitude was infuriating. Apparently, years of torture not only removed you empathy, but also turned you into the most condescending asshole.

“You shouldn’t turn down my offer before you hear it” Crowley warned.

“ _Nothing_ you can offer me will change my mind” Dean announced.

“You’re sure about that, Squirrel?”

In one smooth motion Crowley turned the suitcase’s opening toward him and raised the lid.

Every inch of space was _packed_ with a hundred dollar bills and the Winchester brothers could only stare at them in disbelieve. There had to be at least two million dollars inside! Sam never saw this much money in one place throughout his entire life!

Only when he noticed Crowley wallowing in this moment of triumph, did Sam remember whom he was dealing with and his disgust returned. Crowley wasn’t some businessman who earned all that money through legal means. He was an immoral demon determined to turn Dean into a personal sex toy and based on their previous encounters, if the money won’t do the trick, then he’ll use every other available mean to achieve his goal. Dean was right that demons didn’t give a damn about people’s boundaries and Sam won’t idly stand by when one of them wanted to hurt his brother.

“You stole this money, didn’t you?" he attacked.

Crowley blinked at him in surprise.

“Wha…? You steal money all the time!”

“To survive” Sam explained. “Hunting isn’t a well paying job and we need to eat. We’re not trying to get rich.”

Crowley flopped his mouth like a fish pulled out of water, before regaining his composure.

“Well, despite you _baseless_ accusations, I _didn’t_ steal the money. I simply made a _business transaction_ with one of my old clients: two million dollars for two more years on Earth.” When the Winchesters just kept looking at him in anger, he added hastily: “But then I’ve decided ‘ _Ah, what the hell_ ’ and I’ve freed him of his contract completely!”

“You are lying” Cas commented.

Crowley glared at him through the space between Sam and Dean.

“Nobody asked for your bloody opinion!”

Dean tsked, attracting his attention again.

“I must say your gift was worse than _his_ ” he said, pointing at Cas.

It was like Dean just slapped Crowley. “B-but…” the demon stammered.

Sam had to admit: while he had a lot fun watching his brother squirm under the advances from men, there was nothing more satisfying than witnessing the King of Hell himself and one of the most troublesome demons they’ve ever met completely undone by the same guy he struggled to impress. And despite his earlier freak outs, Dean also enjoyed this moment and was clearly determined to squeeze every drop of entertainment out of the situation.

For a couple of seconds Crowley just stared at Dean, unsure of what to say. Eventually he managed to came up with a plan and the infuriating smirk returned. “But I still haven’t gotten around to presenting my gift” the demon announced.

“So it’s not the money?” Dean asked.

A nervous laughter escaped Crowley’s throat.

“No! You think I’d try buying you like a cheap whore in a brothel?”

“Hey, those ladies are just doing their job” Dean pointed out with an edge of seriousness. “How about you show them some respect?”

"Anyway" Crowley quickly changed subject as the conversation started drifting in the direction that wasn’t favorable to him "what would you say about… about a new car? You could get rid of that old banger your keep riding."

"I love that car!”

"And rightfully so, it's a classic. How about..." Crowley waved his hand in the air, thinking "...a supply of car wax?"

"I've got one already."

"A comfy home?"

"We're always on the move."

"Flowers?"

"Maybe after my dick falls off."

"A song!"

Dean did a double take. "What?"

Sighing with relieve, Crowley put the suitcase aside and looked at the man confidently.

“I also wrote you a song” he specified.

His words caused an immediate reaction from Cas, who stepped ahead, almost knocking Sam over on his way to Crowley. The hunter didn’t dare to say a word of complain, though, as the angel was _pissed_.

“You have no original though on your own!” Cas accused.

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black” Crowley sneered.

Cas grinned like he just heard a hilarious joke. It was a rare occasion for Sam to see such an emotional response from him as the angel almost always looked like a perpetually surprised lemur. But even now his expression looked inhuman, the mouth were stretched just too wide for comfort and any random bystander could tell there was something off about the him.

“What a ridiculous think to say!” Cas told Crowley. “The pot is an inanimate object, it cannot talk! You want to impress Dean when you are speaking such nonsense? You only succeed at making yourself look like a fool!”

There was no need for Crowley to say anything back, so he let the silence fall. Sam rubbed his neck awkwardly, wondering what he could say to save the situation, but the previous glory he and Dean managed to achieve by humiliating the demon was slipping away. And it hurt. _Damn it, Cas, why did you have to say anything?_

After a couple of seconds it started to dawn on Cas that he said something stupid, but clearly had no idea what that was.

"How about I present my gift now?" Crowley finally broke the silence.

"How about you get out?" Dean shot back.

Ignoring him, the demon quickly started singing in a pompous tone:

 

_Dean is wonderful_

_There are no words to do him justice_

_But let me try anyway_

"Dude, stop" Dean demanded.

_I won't let any opponents_

_Shut my mouth about Dean_

_He deserves for the songs to be written about him_

_Because he's wonderful_

"You already said that."

_It's so noticeable it needs to be stated twice_

 

“ENOUGH!”

Crowley bottled up, annoyed and defeated. This whole courtship must’ve turned out to be a lot harder than he anticipated, so he kept sitting on the couch and pouting like a hormonal teenager after an argument with their parents. Sam honestly didn’t know what he expected. That Dean would just _forget_ about all of the murders, backstabbing and manipulations at the mere sight of his gift and fly into his arms? Were demons really this arrogant or just plain stupid?

Of course that was the point when a knocking came from the front door.

It could’ve been a motel maid to clean the room or another staff member, but judging by Dean’s luck thus far, Sam knew exactly whom to expect. Since his brother was just staring at the door like it keyed his car, he went ahead and opened it. Sure enough, there was Benny, wearing a shy smile and holding a small, white cardboard box.

“Hey, Sam” he greeted. “Is Dean here?”

“Everyone’s here” the man specified.

He moved out of the way and let the new guest inside. Benny wasn’t pleased to see Cas and got outright man he noticed Crowley on the couch.

“Got a problem?” the demon growled.

Benny ignored him and turned toward Dean.

“I thought I’d be the first one to show up, but that didn’t go according to plan” he shrugged, then raised the white box up. “I brought you a little gift.”

“Look, Benny, I don’t want anything…” Dean protested, but all of his determination evaporated once Benny lifted the lid.

A smell of warm pie and freshly baked apples reached Sam, making him salivate. It was absolutely irresistible! He wanted to grab a fork and dig in. From the place he was standing he could even see a crumb topping that would crunch between his teeth…

Dean was very conflicted right now, torn between his appetite and the knowledge that the pie was a romantic gift from a man who wanted to become his boyfriend. He kept moving his eyes between Benny and the pie, but Sam knew there was no chance he’ll take it. He might have a sweet tooth, always had, but accepting such gift was equal with giving the vampire a permission to pursue him and after spending an entire day throwing a fit and starting arguments, because his straightness was threatened…

But then, much to Sam’s shock, Dean took the pie.

“Umm… Thanks, Benny” he murmured, refusing to meet anyone’s look.

Crowley gave a choked cry like he was having a stroke, while Cas seemed genuinely distraught over this turn of event. Their reaction didn’t remain unnoticed by Benny.

“I guess my gift was the best received thus far” he commented with smugness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benny : 1  
> Castiel : 0  
> Crowley : 0


	5. Playing Pool

Sam was only gone for twenty minutes to grab some breakfast from the diner down the street and this was the view he returned to. After shutting the front door he stood in place, completely dumbstruck, pressing the foam containers and the paper cups with coffee to his chest. He didn't pay any attention to how dangerously hot they were getting, too focused on inspecting the motel room.

The cardboard boxes from backing companies were _everywhere_ : on the couch and both beds, crammed on the shelf next to TV... Sam counted at least seventeen.

Overwhelming majority had "For Squirrel" written on them in a fancy handwriting, while on two a printed information announced that the pies (made out of carrots and beans) were baked without any processed sugar and thus were very healthy to eat.

In the middle of all of this was Dean, sitting at the table and holding a fork, _three_ empty boxes in front of him. When he looked miserably at his brother, Sam noticed a chocolate smudge in the corner of his mouth.

"When all of those pies got here?"

"Right after you left" Dean explained, breathing heavily. "I went to bathroom for a moment... and once I got out..." He paused to burp. "...once I got out, they were already here..."

Sam shook his head in disbelieve, still absorbing the view.

"I never thought I'd say that" Dean continued "but I'm sick of pies. I've got enough for the rest of my life."

He looked at the last untouched box on the table.

Then with a shrug he opened it and dug in.

 

***

 

On the Monday afternoon there weren’t many clients inside. While walking from the front door toward the bar counter, his steps thundering in the prevailing stillness, Dean noticed only three men and one woman tucked in the corners of the main room, sipping their poisons of choice. The large TV hanged above the counter, providing a background noise with some random music channel playing on it.

Dean dropped on a stool and gave the barman a charming, but tired smile.

“What can I get for you, handsome?” she asked.

Judging by her exposed cleavage and tight jeans, the woman was aware of her good looks and used them to gain higher tips. Dean gave her a once over, which she patiently waited out, before responding: “Any beer will do.”

In a matter of seconds the barman put an open bottle in front of him with a little “Enjoy” and moved away, swinging her hips enticingly. Dean took a swig of beer and followed after her with his eyes. With a sight like this he certainly didn’t mind leaving some extra money on the counter. However, the delightful view was soured by the knowledge of why he was here in the first place.

He just _had_ to get away from the events of past two days: from three men fighting over him, from Sam’s touchy-feely speeches filled with understanding and snickering remarks when Dean told him where he can shove them.

Rolling the beer bottle in his hands, Dean pondered the current situation. After his initial freak out, he finally found himself in a place where he could (for the most part) think calmly.

First of all, he still couldn’t figure out why dudes were so attracted to him.

Dean always considered himself straight. For almost twenty years by now he enjoyed sex with many beautiful women and never had any interested in playing for the other team; even at this moment he was busy checking out the barman instead of flirting with one of the burly men in the bar. He shuddered at the mere thought of having sex with any of them. _See_ , he was one-hundred-percent straight! And yet he managed to draw attention of not one, not two, but _three_ men, three _supernatural creatures_ who were fighting over him right now.

Taking a few more gulps of the beer, Dean figured it could’ve been worse. There could be _four_ men obsessed with him.

(He ignored a whisper in the back of his head reminding him that there _used to be_ a fourth one.)

The most revolting part was of course the Crowley’s request. _A kept boy_ , for fuck’s sake.

Dean couldn’t blame anyone for finding him attractive ( _even_ men, despite how much it disturbed him) as he knew he was hot, thank you very much, but Crowley was a demon who _murdered_ countless people and caused serious troubles to him and Sam. Did he _honestly_ expected to win Dean over?

However, in a way it was Cas and Benny’s offer that was more bothersome. They wanted him to _commit_ , to return their affection, to… to _love_ them.

He steadied his shaking hands and squeezed the bottle tighter.

Throughout his entire life Dean managed to establish only two serious relationships: his passionate fling with Cassie that lasted only three weeks and a one year long stay with Lisa when he tried to live like a normal person and desperately ignore the fact that his brother was roasting in Hell. And look how both of them ended. He wasn’t meant to be in a happy relationship and he grew to accept it.

Yesterday Dean _royally_ fucked up when he encouraged Cas in his pursue instead of turning him down, but when the angel started getting depressed, Dean felt this unbearable pain in his chest and had to comfort him. It didn’t matter that Cas _completely_ misunderstood his words. Dean should’ve explained things to him better, _earlier_ , but he was never comfortable with talking about emotions, so he ignored the problem ‘til it was too late.

Well, there was no other way: he’ll have to grow a pair and clear everything up soon.

“Mind if I sit here, brother?” a familiar voice came from Dean’s right side, stopping his train of thoughts. Without bothering to look, he responded: “It’s a free country, you can sit wherever you want.”

Benny took a seat. Trying to stall the upcoming conversation, Dean chugged the beer and after a minute of silence he finished it, while Benny waited patiently the whole time.

Shit, he _still_ wasn’t ready to talk.

“I miss that” the vampire said suddenly.

“What?” Dean mumbled, putting the empty bottle down and looking at him.

“Hanging out in bars. Back when I was human I used to spend every Saturday evening with my buddies, drinking beer and playing pool.” Benny smiled sadly at those memories. “I should’ve appreciated it more.”

Dean’s heart sped up and he felt unpleasant heat spreading on his face and neck. He couldn’t stomach another conversation about emotions.

“Dude, I… I _appreciate_ you interested, but—"

“Woah!” Benny raised his hand in defensive gesture. “I’m not flirting with you, just chatting. You don’t have to jump to conclusion.” When he earned a you've-got-to-be-joking-me stare from Dean, he remained unfazed. Okay, fine, if _he_ didn't want to breach the subject, Dean wouldn't do it either.

The barman returned, smiling flirtatiously at Benny.

"Can I get you something?"

"No, I'm here just to talk with my friend."

Handling an empty bottle back to her, Dean said: "But I could use another beer."

"It's on me!" Benny proclaimed quickly.

The barman shot her eyes between them in surprise, but then with a _knowing_ smirk she pulled another beer and passed it to Dean. "Tell me if you need anything else" she said and once again walked away, this time _not_ swinging her hips.

A new wave of embarrassment hit Dean. It was _bad enough_ that three men were chasing after him, _bad enough_ they were showering him with gifts of affection, but now _other people were NOTICING IT._ And they thought he was _gay_! Dean turned to Benny, feeling rage building in his chest and ready to scream, but the vampire wasn't paying him any attention for a change; he was checking out the pool table.

"Wanna play?" Benny asked.

Oh, this was _perfect_. "Sure" Dean answered and eagerly jumped of the stool, clutching his beer bottle. He never mentioned his hustling abilities to Benny, so he'll be able to score an easy victory.

He'll show him how it feels to be completely and utterly _humiliated_. Maybe that'll cool Benny's interest.

Dean put the bottle on a nearby table and wasted no time setting the balls. "I'll go first" he announced, grabbing a cue stick. Then he bend over the edge, aimed and took a shot. It went flawlessly, so instead of paying attention to the table, he focused on his opponent.

The view of shock growing on Benny's face as each ball fell into a pocket with a loud pound brought him a deep satisfaction. Once all of the balls were cleared, Benny laughed.

"It seems you have a lot of experience."

"You want to keep playing?"

A spark of mischief appeared in Benny's eyes. "More than ever."

They continued playing for the next hour. Even though he was completely outmatched and kept loosing, Benny refused to give up. It was this determination that helped him to stay alive in the Purgatory and one of the things Dean admired the most about his friend.

Previous shame and anger disappeared as Dean focused on the game. Once again since their Sunday stroll he realized how enjoyable it was to talk with Benny, who showed no signs of snottiness Sam frequently displayed or Cas’s endless confusion over humanity. When Dean referenced some movie or book Benny didn’t recognize, the vampire asked him to elaborate. The conversation flew and not once did they run out of topics to discuss. Honestly, Dean could get used to Benny’s company. They weren’t just two people brought together by desperation and need to get out of the Purgatory anymore. Somewhere along the lines they became friends.

If only the whole courtship bullshit didn’t complicate things.

After an hour Benny’s determination paid off and Dean found himself watching in disbelieve as his opponent scored the winning shot in their latest game.

“Yes!” Benny pumped his fist in victory. “I’ve got you this time!”

“Don’t be so full of yourself” Dean grumbled. “You’ve won _once_.”

“Is that a bitterness I’m hearing in your voice?”

“No, just a reality reminder.”

Wallowing in his temporary glory, Benny grinned with satisfaction and put the cue stick across his shoulder. He looked like he just won two million dollars at a lottery instead of a simple match of pool. Dean felt a pleasant warm expand in his chest, a gratification from bringing some joy into his friend’s lonely life. When Benny stood in this position, Dean had a clear look at the outline of his muscular arms and the beefy posture. For a brief moment he wanted to… to...

 _Fuck_.

_Oh, fuck!_

Did he… did he _seriously_ just think that?!

“Are you okay?” Benny faltered, worry washing over face.

No, he _fucking wasn’t_ , because he just wanted to _nuzzle with_ _a man_ like they were _lovers_!

“Yeah, I’m fine” Dean lied.

Well, it was nice while it lasted, but they couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer. However, there was _no_ _fucking_ _chance_ Dean will be the one to breach the subject. He started pulling the balls out of the pockets, feeling Benny’s stare on him. He _refused_ to meet his eyes, afraid of the emotions reflected in them.

 “Are you happy with your life?” the vampire started.

Okay, he didn’t expect to hear _this_.

Dean smirked. “Yeah, happy as a clam. People keep dying around me, I’m on FBI's most wanted list and monsters all over the America want to kill me. Life couldn’t get any better.”

“Then why won’t you take a chance with me?”

With a heavy sight he finally looked into Benny’s eyes. Just as he suspected there was a mix of sadness and longing in them.

“When I realized a couple of weeks ago how I felt about you, I freaked out” Benny admitted “so I have a good idea what you’re going through right now. But I grew to accept this, because… because I’m tired of being alone.”

“So what, that’s the only reason you want to be with me?”

“I don’t know.” Benny shrugged. “What’s the point of analyzing it? Neither of us have a chance at normal life with a loving wife and bunch of kids, and a suburban house. I mean, I drunk a bag of blood for breakfast this morning. I don’t think a risk of blood stains would be tolerated by neighbours.” He smiled joylessly at his own joke. After a brief moment he added in a begging tone: “Dean…” 

The hunter _hated_ how Benny said his name, because it made him want to step ahead and comfort his friend. And he _couldn’t_. Not when Benny was bleeding his heart out like this.

“It’s kind of strange, I’ll admit, but I don’t care. I want to spend my life with you, Dean. If you say ‘ _no_ ’ to me I’ll respect that, but promise you’ll at least consider it.”

 _Jesus_ , what was he even suppose to _say_ to such request? How could he promise to sit around and ponder about spending the rest of his life with _a man_?

Everyone assumed that Dean’s constant freak-outs over men hitting on him were nothing more than a straight man feeling threatened. But they were all wrong. Even _Sam_ made the same mistake, despite the fact that he travelled with Dean for most of their lives and should know better. When only ten years ago someone thought he and Sam were a couple, he was confused, yes, but also found it amusing. People believed he was into _dudes_! He, _Dean Winchester,_ who shamelessly flirted with every semi-attractive woman he came across! Oh, it was _priceless_! He could even remember that nasty bug case, when an estate agent tried to sell them a house and he playfully smacked Sam's butt, and _Sam was the one who got embarrassed_.

How his brother managed to forget all about it? Clearly, Sam wasn't as smart and understanding as he thought he was. He possessed all of the puzzle pieces and yet still had no idea how to put them together.

Ironically, the fact that Dean considered himself straight _was_ the reason behind his outbursts, just not in the way Sam and everyone else suspected. He knew exactly when and _why_ he went from joking about people's careless assumptions to being horrified by them and he _wanted_ to explain things to his brother, but he couldn't find the words to describe it. Dean was barely able to comprehend himself the raging storm of emotions inside his soul, let alone trying to describe it to another person, since he was never taught how to do that. Dad was too busy shaping Dean into an obedient soldier to care and there was nobody else. The only way Dean knew how to deal with negative emotions was to bottle them up and it worked for the most part, but when men propositioned him, the tension inside proved to be too much and so he kept lashing out.

Looking now at Benny, Dean desperately tried to keep the seal on his feelings secure in place. He didn't want to shout at his friend. He was _tired_ of being angry.

"Benny..." Dean sighed, but then a person visible over Benny's arm caught his attention.

It was Cas, moving toward them in his usual stiff manner with the sides of his trenchcoat flopping backwards, the blue eyes fixed firmly on Dean. There was no doubts why he came here.

"Hey, Cas" Dean greeted. "Looking for someone?"

"Actually, I've been searching for you" the angel responded. Trust him to _not_ get sarcasm. "I wanted to spend some time with you, since that's what people do when they're interested in forming a romantic relationship. According to my research it's called ' _a date_ '."

"Well, here's a problem" Benny interfered. "I'm already on a sort-of-date with Dean."

Before the hunter could deny it, Cas said: "That's alright. I'm sure Dean possesses a divisibility of attention. He'll be able to keep a conversation with both of us."

Apparently, the angel's ' _research_ ' didn't inform him that you don't ask people out on a date when they're _already on a date with someone._ No, wait! Where did _that_ came from?! He's _not_ on a date with Benny!

"May I join you?" Cas asked, looking at the pool table.

"You know how to play?" Dean doubted.

Cas smiled with confidence. "Yes, I've seen many people participate in the game, so I understand how to play billard."

"Pool" Benny corrected.

"That too, but first let's play billard."

For all of their doubts, Cas indeed seemed to know what he was doing. After setting the balls back on the table, he grabbed a cute stick and bend over in a completely professional manner. Dean had to admit he was kind of impressed. Who knew one could learn how to play pool just by looking at other people?

Then Cas took a shot.

The stick collided with the bottom of the ball at lightning speed, ejecting it into air. Dean could only watch in horror as the ball flew through the bar and smashed into a beer mug held by one of the customers, spilling the drink and the glass shards all over the table. The man flinched and almost fell over, but thankfully had no visible cuts on his hand. After recovering from shock, he picked the ball of the floor and stomped to the pool table, shooting a murderous stare at Cas.

"You little shit!" the man growled, slamming the ball onto the table "You spilled my beer!"

The barman stopped next to him. "And you shattered the mug."

"I apologize" Cas choked out, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I can fix everything..."

 _Wonderful_! As if the situation wasn't serious enough, now Cas wanted to make little miracles and scare people out.

"What he meant" Dean quickly explained "is that we'll _pay_ for everything."

He kept an apologetic smile on his face as he paid for all of the damages, but underneath he was barely restraining himself. He had to waste a hard cash earned through hustling, because using fake credit card wasn't an option in this situation. However, as soon as the barman and the man walked away, Dean turned to Cas and tore away the cue stick from his hands. The fact that Dean managed to take it so easily from a freaking angel with supernatural strength was a testament to how horrified was Cas by his own mistake.

Well, good. He _should_ be horrified.

And Dean wasn't impressed by his sheepish stare.

He wasn't.

 

***

 

Ah, this is exactly what Sam needed: a long, warm shower to relax his tense muscles. The whole vacation thing was a true God send (metaphorically speaking of course as in reality God didn’t give a damn about the world), because lately monster and demon activities were putting a serious strain on him. Between dealing with Crowley’s schemes and new cases arising all over the USA, Sam didn’t have much time to rest. Usually he would either nap in the passenger’s seat in Impala and wake up with a sore neck after struggling to use a folded jacket on windshield as a pillow or catch some sleep in the motel rooms they ended up renting during their investigation. The fact that he didn’t even have to set up an alarm clock on his cell phone to be ready as early as possible already made a difference. Sam never considered himself a heavy sleeper – or maybe never had a chance to be one – but he milked their vacations for what they were worth and stayed in bed until at least ten.

It also helped that this time around he and Dean lucked out with the motel room. Instead of some run-down rat hole they usually came across, the motel was modern, clean and filled with new furniture. Dressing up in a pair of boxers and a simple white t-shirt, Sam almost purred at the thought of the comfortable bed awaiting him in the next room. Dean could mock him all he wanted, from calling him grandma to joking about narcolepsy, but Sam didn’t care. It was also _his_ vacation and he’ll spend it the way _he_ wanted.

He left the bathroom, clicking the lights off on his way out, and stepped into the main room. It was submerged in darkness, here and there covered in stripes of yellow light from the street lamps that managed to slip between the slats in the window’s blinds.

Sam barely took a step in when a shadowy figure sitting by the coffee table caught his attention. The hunter’s instinct immediately kicked in as he pulled the gun from under the pillow on his bed and aimed it at the unexpected guest.

“It’s just me, Sam.”

“Cas.” Sighting with relief, Sam lowered the gun and flipped the lights on. Blinking to let his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he added: “Don’t sneak on me like that, I could’ve shot you.” Too late he remembered that none of the weapons he possessed were capable of hurting an angel.

When Cas didn’t respond, instead keeping his eyes firmly locked on the table, Sam stepped closer. Right in front of the angel were lying two open cardboard boxes with the carrot and the bean pies inside. In both of them was a small dent left by a fork when this morning Dean cautiously tasted each. The grimace of pure disgust on his face left no doubt about his opinion on the taste.

Lifting his gaze from the table Sam realized how miserable Cas looked. It wasn’t the usual angelic depression he always slumped into when he believed he disappointed Dean in some way. Oh no, this was the face of a man who lost any hope of achieving what he desired the most and accepted his fate with resignation.

“It was foolish of me to believe I could earn Dean’s love” Cas started, his voice hollow. “Every source I’ve checked said I need to provide gifts for Dean and spend time with him, but when I try to do that he hates me for it. I know I’m not accustomed to human behaviors, but I never expected things to be _so difficult_.” After a brief pause, he added bitterly: “Benny and Crowley don’t seem to have similar problem.”

Sam put the gun on the table and took a seat across Cas. “Well, they used to be humans so of course they know better how to flirt with someone. And besides” he smiled in a reassuring manner “Crowley doesn’t stand a chance. I don’t know what he's thinking, but there’s no chance Dean will pick him.”

It didn’t do much to comfort Cas. He looked at Sam with those blue eyes, pleading silently.

“I don’t know what to do, Sam. Now that I realized my true feelings for Dean, I cannot imagine to continue living without him by my side. How can I earn his love?”

It was hard to watch Cas in such state and Sam wanted to help him, but he didn’t feel comfortable giving anyone tips on how to seduce his brother. Dean’s love life was his own problem after all and in the past few years he wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship, not since the fiasco with Lisa.

However, Sam also knew that things weren’t as simple as they seemed. Despite Dean’s constant denial and macho posturing, there was definitely _something_ going on between him and Cas. Those warm, longing looks they gave each other were just the tip of the iceberg.

Dean always hid his true feelings underneath the mask of sweet-talking playboy, so it wasn’t easy for anyone to get close to him. The only people who managed to see his most vulnerable part were Sam, Bobby and to lesser extend Dad – all family members whom Dean knew his entire life. The fact that somewhere along the lines Cas also joined the group was telling on its own, but when combined with those longing looks and Dean’s frustration when Cas disappeared for larger stretches of time…

Was it love? Sam couldn’t tell for sure, but he _knew_ that Dean was too emotionally stunned to do anything about it. No, this maybe-relationship will start _only_ if Cas succeeds at getting through to him.

And clearly he had no idea how to do it on his own.

So despite an overwhelming embarrassment, Sam started: “Don’t give up so easily Cas. All people struggle with dating and relationships breaks apart all the time.”

“Then what should I do?” Cas asked.

“As you said it yesterday: you need to prove to Dean you’re the better choice than Benny.”

Cas shook his head. “I’ve been trying to do it all this time—”

“But you’ve been approaching it in the wrong way. Instead of giving Dean something anyone can get him, you need to give something unique, something… _unforgettable_.”

“And you believe it’s going to work?”

Sam smiled somberly, because he knew for a fact that it will.

It felt like a lifetime ago, but he could still remember the first serious relationship he ever entered and unlike the one with Ruby, it truly made him happy for a brief moment. And even after all those years he ached at the memory of Jess. Poor, sweet Jess who was murdered purely because she was unlucky enough to cross paths with Sam.

As two college student working part time they didn’t have much money to spare. Most of it went either toward rent or paying the fees, so whenever they wanted to go out on a date, they had to get creative. Once Jess took him to a local carnival organized by the students from Stanford. After a life of being dragged around the country by his Dad and never having the time to experience such events, Sam was overjoyed to try all of the attractions. A childish, but fun game of picking apples out of a barrel; interacting with mimes played by students from an art department; a sticky wall he and Jess could jump at, only to need someone’s help to get down.

Although Sam wished the things turned out differently and Jess could live on, even if it meant far away from him, Sam never regretted meeting her. The pain of losing Jess was worth the happiness she gave him.

“Yeah, it’s definitely going to work” Sam assured Cas. Realizing his throat was tight from painful memories, he cleared it and added: "And remember that people are easier to impress than angels. Our point of view is more limited than yours."

The angel sunk into a deep thought. After a moment his face finally brightened up and he stood up.

“I know what I’m going to do.” Cas looked warmly at the hunter. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The angel took a step away from the table, clearly eager to start setting up his gift for Dean, but then turned once again toward Sam as if remembering something.

“Bye, see you next time” he said.

Sam chuckled and waved to him in response.

Then with a smile and a flutter of wings Cas disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before posting each chapter I obviously edit things a bit. For example, the part from the second chapter with Dean and Sam hanging around in the bar was initialy the entire chapter, while everything else with Benny originally belonged to the third one.
> 
> Right now I'm not sure if Sam's conversation with Castiel should be saved for the next chapter or not, but I'm publishing it here.


	6. Between Heaven and Hell

The crowd was cheering and chanting his name, their united voices booming over the podium, causing it to vibrate under his feet. Dean kept smiling and waving at them, enjoying the moment of glory. He was the winner of Formula One Grand Prix and _nothing_ could spoil it for him.

Among the people in the first row he noticed a Japanese woman who was playing with her long, black hair and wearing a tank top _at least_ two sized too small, which perfectly outlined her large breast. Easily a C-cup if Dean ever saw one. And those _looks_ the woman kept giving him were spelling promises of a long, hot night in her bed. There wasn’t a better way to celebrate his victory, certainly not one Dean could thing of right now, so he gave her a wink. When one of the judged brought a champagne for him to spray the crowd with, he took it eagerly and made sure the bottle is well shaken before aiming it at the people and releasing the opening. He particularly focused on wetting the tank top of the Japanese woman who didn’t seem to mind at all.

But as Dean was watching the damp material turn nearly transparent, exposing the woman’s breast and lace bra, a thought appeared in his head: why everyone is cheering at a wanted criminal? Sure, he was hunting monsters and demons to save lives, but they didn’t know that. As far as public was concerned, Dean Winchester was a dangerous criminal responsible for several murders.

Furthermore, why on earth was he participating in such a high-profile event with numerous cameras following his every move? It’s like he was serving himself to the FBI on a silver platter.

 _It must be a dream_ , Dean realized.

Of course such a sudden inflow of self-consciousness meant only one thing. Dean scanned the crowd and sure enough, there he was, the scrawny, heavenly tax accountant, standing next to the Japanese woman in the first row and staring intensely at him.

 _Fuck_. And it was such a nice fantasy too.

“I need to speak with you” Cas announced. “Please, wake up.”

Dean opened his eyes.

He was back in the motel room in Leavenworth, Washington, laying down with his head pressed against a pillow (now wet from spit) and the comforter tangled around his feet. Gone was the cheering of the crowd, replaced by Sam’s steady snoring from the bed next by, and so was the heavy weight of the golden medal around his neck. Dean blinked a couple of times in confusion.

What was he doing here? Just a moment ago he was standing at the podium, receiving his award for winning Formula One, but then Cas appeared…

Right, just a dream.

After stretching thoroughly and chasing the remains of his dream away, Dean rolled onto his back to face the cold reality. He wasn’t surprised to see Cas standing right next to his bed, despite countless conversations they had about personal space, and watching him like he wanted to gobble the hunter up. That look caused Dean to realize he was exposed down to his knees and wearing only a pair of boxers, so he quickly grabbed the comforter and covered himself up. Cas insisted he had no interest in sex, but if that was the truth, then why would he bother with the whole ‘ _courtship_ ’ bullshit in the first place?

“Heya, Cas…” Dean murmured, his voice gravelly from the sleep. “What’s up?…”

“I want to show you something” the angel explained. He seemed genuinely excited about something, rather unusual for him. “You need to dress up quickly, before the sun rises.”

Dean scowled. It wasn’t dark inside the room as he could see Cas just fine and when he checked the window, he noticed sunlight sneaking trough the blinds. It was still early morning, but the sun was already up.

“A little late for that…” Dean noted.

“Not here” Cas specified. “I’m talking about another place.”

Which meant getting there via angelic teleportation. Even on his best day Dean didn’t like that form of transportation as it always left him dizzy and no matter how many times Cas used it on him, it never got any better. Now Cas expected him to abandon a comfy bed and administer himself a nausea to receive a gift he didn’t want to begin with.

“What place?” Dean asked.

“It’s a surprise” Cas insisted.

Oh no, no, no, _not a_ _chance_. “That’s too bad, because I’m not getting up until you tell me _exactly_ where you’re dragging me.” What if Cas wanted to take him to some remote location for a romantic time? What if he wanted to _make out_ with him there? _Jesus Christ_ , just the thought of _kissing_ another men was sending a shiver of panic—

“Dean” Cas said sternly, but his expression remained warm. “Do you trust me?”

At first Dean almost snapped and said that _of course_ he trusted him, so why Cas was behaving like such a huge girl who needed constant reassurances? However, once he met the angel's eyes and noticed the pure affection reflecting in them, he paused to really think about it.

He remembered the first time Cas disobeyed the Heaven's orders to help him. It was _way_ back when Lilith tried to release Lucifer from his cage in Hell, but then chickened out after finding out it'll cost her life and wanted to abandon that plan in exchange for Sam's soul. Because beneath all of the badass boasting demons were just a bunch of self-serving cowards. Cas was told _not_ to interfere, so instead he casually noted that if Chuck Shurley, a prophet of God who had the archangel Raphael as his personal guard, got in the same room as Lilith, Raphael would fry her ass to protect him. In the end Lilith got away, but not before getting scared shitless. It was a small comfort in the face of her having the last laugh and succeeding at starting the Apocalypse.

Unfortunately, this act of disobedience earned Cas a series of torture from his jerkass brethrens, which for a short period of time turned him back into a subservient tool, but then he helped Dean again and died at the hands of Raphael.

That's pretty much how their entire friendship worked: Dean requests something and Cas is there to comply, even if it means going against his own family that Cas still cared about for some reason. Only once did he go against Dean's wishes, when he consumed the souls from the Purgatory to gain immense power and stop Raphael from starting the Apocalypse again.

As easy and tempting as it was to put the sole blame for the New God disaster on Cas, in hindsight Dean could see his own fault in leading to it. When Cas revealed there was a Civil War taking place in Heaven and he was leading one of the sides, the Winchesters didn't give it much thought. In fact they only offered to help after Cas _pointed out_ how hypocritically they behaved, always expecting _him_ to be on their every request, _even while he was busy fighting at war_ , and yet they never bothered to return the favor. At least Sam had an excuse in form of lacking soul at the time, but Dean just took Cas for granted. Maybe if he and Sam acted earlier, they would provide Cas with an alternate way of defeating Raphael, instead of simply letting him be, desperate and cornered, an easy prey for Crowley to take advantage of.

And once Cas declared himself the New God who'll remade the world to his own liking, what did Dean do? He summoned Death and ordered him to kill Cas, despite the fact that he _refused_ to harm his family members no matter what and earlier deemed the angel to be one of them. Why? Because Cas was a supernatural creature and John Winchester's little soldier was taught to see all of them as a threat that needs to be quickly dispatched of.

 _Dammit_ , he was a really shitty friend, wasn't he?

Looking at Cas right now, Dean wondered what made the angel return to him every time.

"You know I trust you."

"Then please, get ready. It's almost time."

With a sight Dean rolled off the bed and went to grab his clothes – which he tossed on the floor the night before – trying to move quietly to not disturb Sam’s sleep. His brother was still a complete wuss for the sheer amount of resting he did on their vacation, but whatever, let him have it.

While pulling the pants on, Dean noticed that Cas was casually watching his every move like he was performing some sort of reverse striptease.

"Do you mind?" Dean said. "I'm getting dressed here."

Cas frowned in confusion. "I was the one who asked you to do it. Why would I have anything against it?"

_Be patient, he doesn't understand human customs too well._

" _Turn around_ " Dean requested in the most calm voice he could muster, considering the circumstances. "People like to have some _privacy_ when they're getting dressed."

Once Cas faced the opposing wall, _the creep_ , Dean put his clothes on. He hesitated with the jacket, but figured it's better to be safe than sorry. Although the mornings were warm at this time of the year, Cas could be dragging him to the North Pole for all he knew.

"Okay, I'm ready" Dean announced.

Smiling warmly, Cas rested a hand on his shoulder. The hunter had no time to steel himself for the upcoming impact as he was instantly yanked upwards, while his internal organs felt like they were shoved to the bottom of his stomach. Before Dean could even gasp for air in shock, he and Cas have already landed. He took a couple of shaky steps, breathing heavily and seeing dark spots dancing in front of his eyes.

 _Fuck_ , it was worse than usual, most likely due to an early hour and the fact he just got out of the bed.

Of course Cas was just fine. _Goddamned_ angels and their _goddamned_ flying ability. It might be the fastest form of transportation Dean knew, but with _these_ side-effects he preferred a slower ride in his lovely, trustworthy Baby.

After a couple of seconds he calmed down enough to scan the surrounding area.

He instantly forgot about the nausea that was bothering him.

"Where are we?" Dean asked.

"People call this place ‘ _Zion Canyon_ ’" Cas explained.

Currently they were standing atop of the highest mountain in a large canyon, where they had a clear view on the massive stone walls twisting and spiraling around the valley bellow. Dean wasn't a sentimentalist, but places like this never failed to impress. He enjoyed the light breeze blowing in his face and the swishing of the grass under his feet. High above the murky sky was getting brighter and brighter, readying to welcome the morning.

Then the sun came out, flooding the canyon with light and chasing away the shadows. Dean could only watch in stunned silence as the vibrant colors of orange walls and green grass slowly regained their picturesque intensity with each passing minute. He knew that what he was seeing was a unique sight as normal people didn't risk climbing up here before the sun was up to guide their way.

Thankfully, he wasn't a normal person and with the help of his angel he managed to experience this view.

He blinked, realizing what he just thought, and then chuckled. Well, there it goes. After years of hating his life as a hunter Dean finally reached the point when he was glad to be one. Admittedly, it had some perks with ability to thoroughly explore the entire country and see places most people would never travel to being the most noteworthy.

But this view... Fuck. Dean couldn't deny that Cas outdid himself.

“Do you like it?” the angel asked shyly.

“Yeah” Dean admitted. What else was there to say?

“In that case I would like to give you my gift.”

Dean blinked in surprise. “You mean this isn’t all?”

“No. As impressive as my Father’s creation is, I wanted to offer you something on my own. I was practicing the entire night and I’m sure I can do it without any problems now.” That didn’t sound reassuring and Dean didn’t bother hiding his uneasiness. Cas rushed to explain: “Don’t worry. If I fail it won’t cause you any damage.”

He still wasn’t too convinced, but Cas kept looking at him with affection in those bright blue eyes and Dean felt his reluctance melt away. “Okay, let’s do it.” _Damn it_ , that came out wrong. Even he couldn’t help but think “ _That’s what she said_ ”, no matter how much he tried not to.

It didn’t help that Cas suddenly turned his back to Dean and said: “In that case put your arms around my neck.”

What the hell was that? Some angelic version of surprise butt sex?

“You said you trust me” Cas reminded.

Dean wanted to argue that his trust didn’t involve willingness to rub against another man, but he reminded himself that Cas _supposedly_ felt no sexual attraction to him and thus wasn’t interpreting the current situation in the same way.

Maybe there was something in it. From several descriptions of angels found in old, dusty books Sam and Bobby loved to read, it sounded that in their true forms angels had a monstrous appearance, so people most likely looked weird or outright unappealing to them. However, that wasn’t explaining why Cas tried desperately to get together with him.

After giving the angel one last suspicious stare, Dean moved behind him and eased arms around his neck. When they were pressed together, Dean noticed that Cas was radiating intense heat and his back felt incredibly hard like someone hollowed out his body and filled it with concrete. Jimmy Novak compared sharing body with an angel to being strapped to the back of a comet. That’s pretty much how Dean felt right now, minus flying through space at a lightning speed.

A girly yelp escaped his throat when the ground slipped from under his feet. Dean squeezed his arms harder, unable to care if he was strangling Cas. Short glance bellow confirmed his fears: they were lifting into air, with him hanging for his dear life from the holly tax accountant.

“What _the fuck_ are you doing?” Dean wailed.

“Dean” Cas said. “I will not let _anything_ bad happen to you.”

The soothing tone in his voice helped the hunter to regain composure. When he got over the initial shock, Dean had to admit it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as flying in one of those steel death traps with no way out. He knew Cas won’t let him fall, so he kept breathing deeply to stay calm.

They stopped raising about fifty feet into air.

“Hold tight now” Cas commanded. Then he tilted forward, causing Dean to press harder against his back, and moved at leisurely speed.

The cool morning breeze was blowing in his face, messing his hair and getting under the layers of his clothes, but Dean didn’t feel cold thanks to the angelic heater under him. He placed his chin on Cas’s shoulder and stared at the view bellow them. From up here the previously massive canyon appeared a lot smaller, resembling a collection of orange and green stripes on some priceless painting, but no less beautiful for it. If there were people climbing the mountains right now… well, first of all they would get scared for life when seeing two men flying, Dean figured with a smirk. But _also_ they would look tiny from up here, not much bigger than ants.

“This is how the world looks like to me” Cas explained, his words muffled by the wind.

A world of infinite beauty, populated by people who appeared microscopic from such height. As much as it pained him to admit it, Dean could understand now why angels believed that when humans claimed to be the true masters of Earth, they were acting in arrogant way as in reality they only contributed to the bigger picture. Dean wasn't so full of himself to say something this stupid. However, he also knew that angels were a bunch of winged hypocrites as all they could do was flaunt their superiority and fuck things up. And sing, apparently. They should just stay in Heaven and strum in their harps for the rest of the eternity, the world would became a better place if they got lost.

Except for Cas. Despite growing in such a toxic environment and being a powerful creature who could kill with a snap of his fingers, he didn't display any (okay, _much_ ) smugness typical for his siblings. Instead he viewed people as fascinating and considered free will to be a precious treasure.

Dean turned his head to look at the angel and saw a faint smile spread on the chapped lips. Cas looked so peaceful. Somehow he always bounced back after tragic events and kept going with hope, not allowing the pain to turn him into a bitter jerkass. A lot of hunters could learn something from him in this regard, including the Winchesters. While Dean might never understand why Cas managed to turn out so good, he figured it didn't matter. What's important is that Cas was here with him, warm under his chest and wanting to stay with him for the rest of their lives.

But… why Cas became interested in him in the first place? He was just a defeated, cynical hunter who drunk too much alcohol and ended up screwing up lives of everyone around him. There were many people more worthy of affection, Cas just never met them.

And maybe that was the problem: Cas didn't know he could do better.

Dean had no idea how much time passed before they landed, but judging by the position of the sun, probably about half an hour. It still wasn't too warm, so after they landed, Dean reluctantly let go of his personal heater and zipped his jacket. Cas turned to him with joyful expression, only to frown in confusion when he saw the hunter's face.

“Is something wrong, Dean?”

He didn't want to say anything, didn't want to spoil the moment, but he had to explain things to Cas before he wasted years pursuing Dean and becomes bitter as he inevitably realized his mistake. “Why me? Why are you do determined to hook up with me? I'm nobody.”

“That couldn't be further from the truth.”

“If you want to get together with a human, you can do much better” Dean insisted. “I'll help you find some nice woman… or a man, whatever—”

“ _I don't want_ to be with anyone else” Cas explained with a stern note in his voice.

“Why?”

Cas turned away and moved to the edge of the cliff they were currently standing on. He was silent for awhile, watching the canyon, and Dean thought that maybe he was reevaluating his decision.

“When we first met, I was completely different” the angel started eventually.”I didn't question my orders. Back then I stupidly believed that every order coming from Heaven was righteous, because God commanded it. If I knew from the beginning that my superiors wanted to start the Apocalypse instead of preventing it, I would do as they said. Reluctantly, yes, but I still would.” Cas finally turned back to Dean, his eyes filled with pure affection. “But you showed me I didn't have to be a mindless tool. _You_ made me who I am today and all I can offer you in return is the only thing I have: my love. Dean, I realize I don't know humanity too well and I embarrass you a lot, but I'm learning.” A shy smile brightened his face. “There might even come a day when I understand one of your references.“

Dean shook his head. This couldn't be right, Cas must be talking about some else.

“I love you, Dean. Even if you turn me down, I'll continue supporting you, because you're the most important person in my life.”

Trying to level out his breathing, Dean looked up in the sky. The morning was just as sunny as a moment ago and he didn't notice a single rain cloud.

So why was his face wet all of a sudden?

***

Impala was purring soothingly as Dean drove on U.S. Highway 2 to the west from Leavenworth, Washington and mile after mile disappeared behind his wheels. He didn't have any destination in mind, only wanted to take a relaxing morning trip in his beloved Baby. Maybe he'll check out Icicle River that the locals praised as a beautiful tourist attraction. Or maybe he'll just keep driving ahead until he remembers about Sam waiting for him in the motel room. Who knew. Dean didn't force himself to make any plans, instead letting Impala lead him where she saw fit and enjoying the feeling of freedom she gave him. No worries, no duties, no guilt, just him and the road.

It was still early morning, not even eight a.m., but the sun already started warming up the air on its daily journey through the sky. At first Dean wanted to take full advantage of the weather and drove with the side window down, letting the wind ruffle his hair as he liked to do during his trips in Impala, but that reminded him too much of the flight with Cas and the angel was the reason why he was here to begin.

He needed to forget how exposed and vulnerable the visit to the Zion Canyon made him feel, forget how much he hated and yet _craved_ those beautiful words Cas said. To hear someone proclaim Dean to be the most important person in their life was shocking to him after years of being nothing more than a tool for avenging Mary Winchester's death, after constant rejection from everyone he held dear, especially Dad and Sam...

No, he couldn't deal with those emotions. It was too painful.

Dean shook his head, trying to get rid of the memories of Cas's words, but they stubbornly refused to disappear. So over and over he heard Cas saying how much he loved Dean and how he'll stay by Dean's side even if he’s rejected. But Dean didn't want to put him in such position. He knew from personal experience how much it hurts to desperately cling to someone who made it clear they don't need you. First Dad who cared more about finding and killing Azazel then raising him, next Sam who keeps abandoning him when an opportunity for normal life strikes. He always forgave them of course, because they were all he had, but it was getting harder and harder with time. When he had to ignore the fact that Sam preferred playing home with some random chick, he felt like throwing up.

No, there's _no fucking chance_ he'll put Cas in such position. Him or Benny.

But he could choose only one of them...

Shit.

Dean stopped Impala on the side of the road and leaned his forehead against the coolness of steering wheel, struggling to level out his breathing. A vague swooshing of water made him aware he reached Icicle Lake in his mindless drive, but the sound didn’t help him to relax as he was focused on what he just thought.

He was pondering the idea of entering a relationship with a man, wasn’t he?

Unbelievable. After years of identifying as straight, he was genuinely considering hooking up with a dude! A new wave of anger exploded inside his head and he painfully squeezed the steering wheel, finding the pain to be comforting. Why wouldn’t everyone just _fuck off_ and leave him alone?! Cas and Benny were practically guilt tripping him into becoming their boyfriend, because they’re just so miserable without him! He doesn’t need this shit! He has enough problem to deal with on his own!

“Rough day?” a familiar voice with Scottish accent came from his right.

Great, just what he needed! Another _asshole_ wanting a piece of him like he was some kind of a meat on sell! Dean snapped his head up and looked at Crowley, who was wearing his usual I’m-hot-stuff smirk. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” the hunter attacked. “I told you to fuck off last time! Get out of my car or—“

Crowley remained unimpressed and in response only waved his hand like he was chasing away a fly, which helped to fuel Dean’s anger. He won’t fucking allow _anyone_ to dismiss his words—

Suddenly, the Impala’s engine shut down. Dean had just enough time to register this and glance in shock at the console, before something shoved him into the corner between the driver’s seat and the door. No matter how much he struggled, the magical force kept him pinned in place. Fuck. He gave up and looked furiously at Crowley.

The demon’s eyes were pure red.

“You should never forget whom you’re dealing with, boy” Crowley said casually as if they were having a pleasant conversation about weather over a cup of tea.

Dean wanted to sneer something back, but no sound came from his throat. He could feel demonic power keeping his vocal cords steady.

“No, no, no” Crowley chuckled. “I’ve put up with enough of your babbling by now. It’s time you _sit_ and _listen_ to what I have to say, alright? Say something if you disagree.” After a couple of seconds, during which Dean could only stare into those red eyes, Crowley nodded with satisfaction. “I knew we’d be able to reach an agreement.”

Once again finding himself at a complete mercy of a demon – and he learned a long time ago that demons don’t have any – Dean tried to remain calm. As an experienced hunter he knew that losing his shit won’t help in any way, so he ignored the feeling of his heart beating desperately against the confinement of the ribs, instead focusing on analyzing the current situation.

Wrestling his way out of the confinement wasn’t an option. No way a normal human would be able to break free from the influence of magical power, especially when it's used by such a powerful son of a bitch as Crowley. Dean didn’t consider any attack attempts either. Even if he could jump at Crowley, he had nothing to harm him with. Ruby’s knife was back at the motel room, tucked safely into the night stand next to Sam. Also considering that Crowley prevented him from speaking, he wouldn’t be able to manipulate the demon into letting him go. He doubted Crowley would do that anyway until he said everything he wanted.

That left only one option.

Currently Crowley wasn’t paying attention to him, too busy staring through the front shield and reminiscing. It was strange seeing one of the demons lost in a thought as they always acted like a bunch of cartoonish bad guys who cackled maniacally and wanted to destroy the world just because. Nevertheless, Dean closed his eyes and prayed.

_Cas, can you hear me? I need your help._

Unfortunately, at this point Crowley started talking, breaking Dean out of the prayer: "I suppose you already know about my past life as a human from Bobby." With a huff of annoyance Dean glanced at him. The demon continued staring through the front shield, but now his eyes were normal. "I was a bastard. _Literally_ . My mother conceived me on an orgy and didn't know who the father was, so I was shunned by other people. Mother didn't love me either and never hesitated to beat me up, until one day she just abandoned me." Crowley finally turned toward Dean. "Can you believe that? She _abandoned_ me. Even your father didn't stood so low and I've heard a thing or two about his parenting techniques."

Dean clenched his teeth, hating how Crowley was right this time around.

When he or Sam ever confronted Dad about his awful behavior, he always had some sort of counter-argument ready: “ _Mary’s killer was the one who forced us into this life_ ", " _I do my best in current situation_ " or – his favorite one – " _don't you want to avenge your mother's death? Didn't you care about her at all?_ " When Dean was younger, he always gave in and felt a deep shame for ever questioning Dad.

However, right now he was done accepting those excuses. Because that's what they were: excuses. Yes, Azazel murdered Mom, but he didn't force Dad to become hunter and turn them into outlaws, didn't force Dad to leave them alone in motel room for weeks at a time or scream at them when they dared to question his decisions. No, that was all John Winchester, who let obsession over his dead wife turn him into an abusive asshole.

As much as Dean loved Mom (the little he remembered her), he didn't believe that killing Azazel was worth everything Dad did. In his younger years he was saying otherwise, but now he realized it was just his pathetic attempts at making all the suffering have some meaning.

Crowley continued his speech, oblivious to Dean's irritation: "I grew up with a lot of anger in me and somewhere along the lines I figured that alcohol would help subdue it. Don't ask me why." Crowley shrugged his arms. "I wasn't very bright back then. Anyway, as you may imagine alcohol instead made me more violent and I ended up beating the hell out of my own son. Once I got sober, I always felt a horrible guilt and I tried to get rid of it with even more alcohol... It was a vicious cycle I couldn't break out of." Crowley smiled at Dean in a really chilling, uncaring way. "But I don't give a fuck anymore. Years of torture in hell helped to get rid of the guilt."

Then the demon shifted, the leather of passenger's seat squeaking under him, and started leaning closer to Dean's face. Oh fuck, he wants to kiss him! Dean squeezed his eyelids, the heart rising to his throat. No, he cannot do it, not again!

_CAS! I NEED YOU!_

However, instead of Crowley's mouth on his own, Dean felt a warm breath with a faint scent of whisky brushing against his ear as the demon whispered: "I know how much you miss hell..." The hunter opened his eyes wide in shock. "I know how much you miss the freedom of being a demon and living without guilt... The angel boy and the vampire may offer to love you, but _I_ can take away the pain... All you have to do is say ' _yes_ ' and seal the deal with a kiss..." Crowley leaned away and looked into Dean's eyes. "Don't worry. I'll hide you so well that this time no one will interfere with you transformation into a demon."

Dean barely registered when Crowley started stroking his face.

“Gave you something to think about, didn’t I?” the demon said with hunger in his eyes. Then his hand froze on its journey down Dean’s neck and Crowley glared. “It seems a company is coming. I’ll catch you later.”

With one final smirk Crowley disappeared. Dean barely registered his absence or the purring of Impala’s engine, though. He kept his head leaned against the hard metal of the front door and wrapped his arms around the chest, feeling even more exposed and helpless than after the visit to Zion Canyon.

“Dean, are you alright?”

Cas was sitting in the passenger’s seat from where a mere seconds ago Crowley made him an offer.

“What happened?”

But Dean only shook his head, unable to speak. After all how could he explain to Cas that Crowley managed to discover his deepest and darkest desire? How could he explain that for the first time since the whole courtship thing began he wasn't so sure if being the King of Hell's lover sounded like a bad idea?

_I can take away the pain. Don't worry. I'll hide you so well that this time no one will interfere with you transformation into a demon._

Fuck.


	7. Dean's Choice

"I've found a new case" Sam announced from the coffee table. He was looking at the article about a couple of (thankfully) non-fatal accidents that happened to workers on construction side in Brigham City, Utah when they tried to demolish an old residential block. Tools shutting off or turning on randomly, debris flying at the men at impossible angles, scaffolding breaking down... Smells like a classic case of unrestful spirit.

The response was instantaneous as Dean jumped off the bed and clapped his hands eagerly. "No reason to waste time, then. Let's go."

Considering that Dean spend last three hours sulking and refusing to talk after returning from his morning trip, it set off every warning bell in Sam's head. He interwinded his hands and rested his chin on them, watching Dean carefully.

"Not going to ask me about the details?"

"You can explain everything during the trip" Dean insisted as he went to the bathroom to pick up the toiletries, their only belongings that were out. During hunts they never unpacked much to make it easy to hit the road as fast as possible in case of an emergency. Theoretically, they could check out and be on their way in five minutes.

But Sam wasn't interested in that. Currently the haunted construction site was closed, so they had time to get there before anyone would be at risk of dying again. He was determined to use that time to make Dean finish his business here first.

"Dean."

His brother pretended he was too focused on packing to hear him.

"Dean!"

The older Winchester spun on his feet. "WHAT?!"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam asked in a patient voice, already bracing himself for a sneering or an aggressive response he usually got when trying to talk with Dean about feelings.

And he wasn't disappointed. "Here's a better idea: how about you stop playing a _goddamned therapist_?!"

"It's hard to do when I'm the one who have to put up with your constant moods swings."

"I'm sorry my life isn't as straightforward as yours." Dean paused and then chuckled, but it lacked any joy behind it. " _Straight_ forward. Isn't that funny?"

 _Of course_ that’s where Dean’s anger stemmed from.

Yesterday, when Sam advised Cas to prepare an unforgettable gift, he honestly wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure it would succeed at breaking through Dean’s mental shield. He figured it might leave a little dent in it that with time would lead to his brother opening up and accepting Cas as his boyfriend somewhere down the road, but instead it exceeded his expectations.

In fact, it probably worked _too well_.

This morning Sam woke up just in time to see Cas bring Dean back from their trip to wherever they’ve been to. Despite still being sleepy, he did notice how red and puffy his brother’s eyes were before Dean hastily grabbed the car keys, announced he’ll be back soon and bolted for the door. It was a shocking turn of events. Sam could count on one hand all of the times he witnessed Dean cry, each example coming up after a particularly traumatic incident, and yet Cas managed to bring him to tears with his love gift. So now Dean was overcompensating with brash behavior as if having a vulnerable side was a flaw exclusive to him instead of a part of being human. This unwillingness to show weakness meant that talking to Dean about emotions felt like pulling teeth.

Unfortunately, Sam had to get through this conversation as it was long-due.

“Dean, I get that you’re bothered by the whole situation—“

“You know _shit_!”

“Then why won’t you explain it to me?”

When his brother only sneered in response and went back to packing, Sam took a calming breath. Losing his temper won’t help. Acting like an arrogant jerk was one of Dean Winchester’s classic ways of derailing the conversation. He needs to stay focused if he wants to achieve anything.

“Dean…” he started again.

"Dean, Dean, Dean" his brother repeated in a mocking voice. "How many more times are you going to repeat my name? I remember it just fine, I don't have an Alzheimer or anything." The hunter turned to zip up his duffel that was lying on the bed. After a brief pause he added quietly: "And I doubt I'll live long enough to get it, anyway. Few hunters survived as long as Bobby.”

Sam closed his eyes, feeling a painful squeeze on his heart at the mere mention of Bobby. He and Dean rarely talked about the old man after his death and for a change it had nothing to do with his brother's inability to open up. They lost they surrogate father who treated them better than their actual father. Sam couldn't think of words that would make the situation better, so he avoided the subject altogether.

After calming down a bit, Sam opened his eyes to see Dean with a duffel hanged over one shoulder and reaching for the weapon bag.

"You seriously want to just run away?" he berated.

"There's _nothing_ to run away from" Dean said without even glancing at him.

"Except for an angel who's in love with you."

"It's Cas's problem. I didn't ask him to fall for me."

Sam rested his hands on the table and watched Dean lift the weapon bag from the floor, pondering over his next move. He could just drop the subject and move on with their day. After all, he wasn’t _certain_ there was anything going on between Dean and Cas, it could be just his overinterpretation of innocent gestures. But on the other hand this is the closest he ever got to talking with his brother about the whole situation…

_Ah, screw it. Time to bring the big bombs._

“You’re sure about it?”

Dean snapped his head and looked at Sam in shock. He quickly tried to cover up his true feelings with a thick façade of anger, but it was already too late. For a briefest of moment Sam saw a fear in his eyes, _fear of being caught_ , and it strengthen his determination to finish this conversation.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Dean snarled.

“I’ve noticed those longing looks you keep giving Cas” Sam explained, then laughed. “Although it’s not like they’re hard to spot, you two could stare at each other for _hours_.”

It took Dean a couple of seconds to find his voice again: “Have you completely lost your _fucking mind_?!”

“Come on, Dean—“

“I’M NOT FUCKING GAY AND I DON’T GIVE HIM ANY LONGING LOOKS” Dean exploded, forgetting in his rage that people in other rooms could hear him. “If there’s someone who shows unhealthy obsession with Cas, it’s you!” Dean pointed at Sam with triumphant expression. “You constantly bring up what a good boyfriend he would be, that I should give him a chance! And when he lost his angelic powers during the Apocalypse” Sam tried to hush his brother, looking at the thin walls of their room, but was ignored “you just _had to_ go ahead and comfort him like he’s a some helpless child! You know what I think?! That _you_ want to hook up with Cas, but you’re too embarrassed to admit it, so you’re just projecting those fantasies on me!”

Sam opened his mouth, to say something – he wasn’t sure what – but Dean cut him off: “Do you even realize how much you have to twist the facts for them to fit this _ridiculous_ theory?! I slept with dozens of women!” He started counting on his fingers: “Lisa, Cassie, Jamie, Anna, Dana, Amy, Kate… The list goes on and you have _the nerves_ to call me _fucking gay_?!”

Dean completely lost it. He was gesturing furiously and spitting everywhere as he continued his rant, bringing more and more outrageous proves that he was straight. Sam stared at him in disbelieve. Why his brother became so homophobic all of a sudden? A couple of years ago he would merely laugh at suggestion he was gay, but now he seemed incapable of imagining anything worse than that.

“Dean” Sam interrupted “we’ve _murdered innocent people_.”

That finally got his brother to stop shouting and the heavy silence hanged in the air, nearly suffocating them with implications.

Sam didn't need to add another word, because they both knew what he was talking about: those poor men and women who became possessed and they had to stab to death along with the demons residing inside of them. Yes, he and Dean tried to exorcise as many people as possible, but that wasn't always an option. Every time a group of demons ganged on them, they were forced to use Ruby's knife in order to survive. It was a choice: either they die trying to save all possesses people or kill and live another day to save even more lives. Sam understood that logically the latter was the right choice, but it never _felt_ right.

Those people did nothing wrong, yet they ended up dying to ensure that he and Dean could continue hunting.

"Are you honestly going to tell me that entering a relationship with man is worse than this?" Sam asked, his voice barely above whisper, but in the current silence it sounded as loud as a gunshot.

Defeated, Dean slumped onto bed and didn't dare to meet his brother's eyes.

"Our lives aren't normal to begin with" Sam continued. "I mean, we're wanted criminals. So why are you so concerned that people will call you gay?"

"I'm not—" Dean started weakly.

"I don't know if you are or not. What I'm saying is: does it really matter? I get that I don't understand everything, mostly because you refuse to talk about it" Sam noticed Dean open his mouth and fearing another rant, he quickly added "but that's not the point. It's just... I can see how much you're suffering, because you refuse to take this chance and it's _killing me_."

Like the knowledge during those horrible four months from years ago that Dean will forever be stuck in Hell and subjected to endless tortures until he turns into one of the monsters they fought.

Sam closed his eyes and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to get rid of those images. He spend too much time reminiscing about the past already and now he needed to focus on talking some sense into his stubborn brother.

"You have a great opportunity to start a relationship with someone who'll fight by your side" Sam noted. "You know how much I would give for that?"

"Then why won't _you_ propose to Cas?" Dean challenged, but there was no sings of previous anger behind his words.

"He doesn't care for me the way he does about you. I'd say he's willing to die for you, but... he already did." Sam shrugged. "Even Benny seems like a good choice, judging by what little I saw of him, since you never bothered to introduce us properly."

Dean smirked. "I'm a big boy now, _Mom_. I can hang out with people you didn't pre-approve."

Well, things weren't exactly perfect, but at least he managed to subdue an argument and Dean seemed to be _finally_ getting on the right track. Sam was sure his brother will talk with Cas and Benny, maybe even choose one of them. However, there was still a lingering risk of Dean freaking out.

"If you have troubles talking with Cas or Benny, I can do it for you" Sam assured.

"Jesus Christ, Sam!" Dean looked at him like he grew another head. "What else? You're going to proofread my love letters?"

Sam knew he shouldn't be pushing the subject, because he might start another argument, but the opportunity was just too precious to pass: "You're writing _love letters_?"

Dean clenched his jaw and stood up silently, letting the duffel and the weapon bag drop on the floor with a loud bang, before leaning over the coffee table and looking directly into his brothers eyes. He probably wanted to look as menacing as possible, but Sam kept smiling like nothing happened. "No, I don't" Dean announced and his warm breath hit Sam right in the face. "But I'm sure you'd try to make me do it, _Samantha_."

When the younger Winchester didn't cower in fear as intended, Dean stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

Meh, he'll get over it.

 

***

 

A splash of cool water helped Dean regain his composure. Fuck, he _needs_ to get a hold of himself. He was about to explode _again_ , when the conversation he just had with Sam gave him some clarity of mind.

 _Stay calm_ , Dean repeated in his head a couple of times, feelings droplets of water falling down his face. He turned the faucet off, grabbed a hand towel and wiped himself dry. After hanging the towel back up, he leaned against the sink and looked in the mirror above it. In all honesty he didn’t like to watch his own reflection and would avoid doing it at any cost, but he had to do it now. He had to _make sure_ nothing changed about him.

As Dean searched his features for the smallest of differences, he realized how irrational his behavior was. _Of course_ he looked exactly the same, he looked to same for years now, ever since...

 _Fuck_ , he didn’t— No, he _couldn’t_ think about it right now. If he allows old memories to flood his mind, he’ll freak out again and take off with Sam without resolving anything here. Both Cas and Benny deserved better.

Besides, what happened, happened and no amount of reminiscing will change it, something which Dean was aware of since he spend a lot of time in the past few years doing just that. All he achieved in the process was getting angry and acting like a complete asshole to everyone. While Sam haven't figured out the whole picture yet, during their conversation he managed to determine exactly what bothered his brother: Dean was scared. Scared of himself, scared of the attraction he felt for other men and – most importantly – scared of the thought were those desires were coming from. That fear held a tight grip on him, squeezing tightly on his heart every time Dean wanted to give in and admit his true feelings, choking any words before they could leave his mouth.

However, Sam's words also gave him enough clarity to fight back.

Because it was true, they had a blood of innocent people on their hands, all thanks to those demonic bastards who were taking a deep joy from fucking everyone's life up.

Dean's jaw tightened and he saw his reflection mimic his action.

The demons took so much from him and Sam already. They murdered their parents, deprived them of safety, chopped on their sanity and morality. Why should Dean let this fear prevent him from finding some happiness?

And so he made a choice.

Knowing that soon the cold grip of fear will return with doubled strength and break his determination, Dean decided to act quickly. He fished a cell phone out of his pocket and selected Benny’s number. After two signals he got a connection.

“Hey, Dean. Wasn’t sure if I hear from you again.”

The hunter opened his mouth and then closed it again, realizing that Benny almost got it right. That was his original plan – to take off and avoid his three admirers at all cost – before Sam interfered.

Damn it, he really made for a shitty friend.

“Come on, Benny!” Dean forced a laughter to cover up his nervousness. He wasn’t sure if Benny could tell. “That’s a low blow! I’ve told you already I want to keep in contact and I’ve meant it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So, why did you call then?”

“I…” Dean faltered. There it was, that freezing cold grip reaching out for his heart. No, goddamned, he won’t let it back so easily. “I was thinking about what you said back in the bar… you know, about us becoming a couple and… and I’ve made my decision.” Benny was quiet on the other side, so Dean added: “I’m not sure if you want to hear it over the phone or…”

“I’d prefer talking in person” the vampire decided. Dean couldn’t miss that he sounded hopeful. “I can be at your motel room in five minutes.”

“I’m waiting then.”

When the call disconnected, Dean stared at the phone screen long after it went black. He did it. He seriously just called Benny to invite him over to discuss their relationship prospects. The fear was creeping back and Dean couldn’t help, but glance in the mirror.

His eyes were still as green as a minute ago.

Okay, okay, he was doing fine thus far. Now he had to invite Cas.

Considering how fast the angel responded to his prayer today, it seemed to be the better way of contacting him at the moment than calling. Usually it took hours, on rare occasion _days_ for Cas to appear as often he was busy dealing with far more dangerous hunts than those the Winchesters took care of. Every time he failed to answer the prayer for a longer period time, Dean would become antsy and worried sick that he won't see his friend again. While it was pretty obvious that currently Cas entered a full stalker mode and watched Dean closely, waiting for his decision, the hunter found some relief in the fact he'd get a fast answer.

Dean slipped his phone back into the pocket and closed his eyes, not wanting to accidentally see his reflection as he prayer. He always felt embarrassed doing something so silly.

 _Heya, Cas_ , he started. _Could you drop by? I need to talk with you._

Not even a second passed before Dean heard a flutter of wings behind him. Yep, full stalker mode.

He turned around and with a surprise noted that Cas wasn’t standing in his personal space, but rather at a respectable distance, which in the tiny motel bathroom meant right under the opposite wall. Unfortunately, he was also wearing this gooey expression like being summoned by Dean was the greatest gift in the world.

“You wanted to talk” Cas reminded.

His words caused Dean to realize he was staring into those blue eyes for unacceptable amount of time without saying anything. He cleared his throat and said: “Yeah, it’s something important. I was thinking about… about your proposition to, um, ‘ _enter a romantic relationship_ ’ with me and… I’ve made my choice.”

A flash of several emotions showed on Cas’s face in quick succession, as always dulled by his inability to properly express feelings in a human way, but clear enough for Dean: surprise, anxiety and finally hope. The same hope Benny also held. It was unbearable for Dean to think that he had to choose one of them and hurt the other one in the process, but there was no alternatives.

“Who did you choose?” Cas asked.

Before Dean could say anything, a loud knock came from the bathroom door, followed by Sam’s muffled voice: “Dean. Benny’s here.”

Damn it. Dean hoped he’d be done with Cas by the time Benny comes.

“Got it!” he shouted back, then looked at the angel again. “Let’s talk in the main room.”

When they walked out of the bathroom, Benny was hovering between the front door and the couch. He stopped and gave Dean a nervous smile, which faded away the second he saw Cas following.

“We weren’t making out” Dean clarified.

“That’s not what I was thinking” Benny assured.

Sam shook his head ( _the bitch_ ). “I better leave all of you alone, so you can discuss things in peace” he decided, passing by Benny. Standing in the open door, he looked one more time at his brother in encouraging manner. “If you need me, I’ll be at the bar” he informed, nodding in the direction of the local on the opposite side of the street.

“Sure” was all Dean managed to say in return.

And with that Sam was gone.

“Well” Benny started. “No reason to drag this out. What’s your choice?”

Both he and Cas stared at Dean intensely, waiting for his decision. The hunter knew there was no turning back and this was what he decided to do only a couple of minutes ago, but standing now in the middle of the room, alone with two men who desperately wanted to become his boyfriends in order to escape loneliness or as a gratitude for changing their lives, he couldn’t find his voice. He wanted to just say ‘ _Fuck it!_ ’, jump into Impala and drive away at full speed, leaving the whole problem behind.

However, this time he wasn’t led by cold grip of trauma, but rather by shame of having to break his friend's heart. Despite the reassurance that nothing will change between them, Dean _knew_ it will make them to grow apart.

In a way it was quite amusing: Dean could face countless blood-thirsty monsters on weekly bases and sneer in the face of incoming death, but this is what filled him with overwhelming terror. The knowledge he might lose his friend, this time permanently, after they just reunited and started getting along again. Sam said it was his chance at happiness, but it really didn’t feel that way to Dean. It was like everything else he ever did: accidentally hurting people he held dear for his own selfish purposes.

Cas and Benny seemed to understand the gravity of the situation as neither was rushing him.

The silence was eventually broken not by him, but by another voice coming from the couch. Dean wasn’t even surprised to hear it: “Hope I’m not too late.”

Benny flinched away from the couch, where once again Crowley was sitting, his left foot resting on his right knee, smirking at them as if he was watching a bunch of Neanderthals trying to operate a computer.

“I’m afraid my invitation got lost in the mail” the demon complained.

“You _weren’t_ invited” Dean explained.

“I wasn’t…?” Crowley faked a shock. “Oh dear, what an awkward situation! And here I thought we had a deal.” He rested both of his feet on the floor and leaned closer to Dean. “You didn’t forget what I offered, did you?”

Dean ignored Benny's questioning looks and Cas nodding in understanding, instead focusing on Crowley. With his expensive, tailor-made suits, new and shiny black shoes, well-groomed fingernails and hair, the King of Hell truly stood out from other demons who rarely went to such extremes when changing clothes and appearance of people they were possessing. If they got bored and wanted to improve their look, they preferred to simply jump into someone else and abandon the old meat suit like a snake discarding an old skin. But Crowley seemed to be fond of this body as he stayed in it from the moment Dean met him, even when he was in grave danger and it would be safer to just abandon it. For the first time Dean found himself wondering why. He also remembered the mansion he found Crowley living in all those years ago. He could bet that somewhere out there was a similarly luxurious place filled with alcohol, finest food and all comforts imaginable, where the demon lived right now, because Crowley spend an obscene amount of time and energy showing off his value to everyone around.

"I'm not interested" Dean responded.

"I seriously doubt that" Crowley sneered.

"You know what I think is the real reason for your interest in me?"

Crowley sighed. "No. But I'm sure you're going to waste my time explaining it."

Ignoring the insult, Dean stepped closer to Crowley and leaned down. "You're jealous of me."

For a brief moment Crowley stared at him dumbfounded, until it settled in his mind that Dean was serious and he promptly burst into hysterical laughter. The sound was ear-piercing and Dean bet even Sam could hear it from across the street.

"Are you...?" Crowley struggled to talk as he was wiping tears out of the corner of his eye. "Are you serious? What could I possibly be jealous of? What could a _drunk loser_ like you have that I don't?"

"If that's how you perceive Dean, why are interested in him?" Cas asked.

"None of you business, angel boy."

"I can tell you exactly, why" Dean said to Cas.

"Oh, let me guess" Crowley offered with a smirk. "It's because of your ability to _love_ , isn't it?"

Another series of laughter followed. Normally, Dean would quickly loose his cool and start throwing punches if a demon acted like this toward him, but today the insults failed to ignite his anger. He had no reason to be mad at Crowley, because he finally saw him for what he really was.

"You're jealous of my humanity" Dean explained finally.

For the first time amusement disappeared from Crowley's face.

"You live among people and surround yourself with luxuries in a desperate attempt at clinging to what little has left of your humanity, because _every walking second_ of your live – and I know demons don't sleep, Crowley, so it's a lot of time – you regret making the deal with a demon . You miss all the opportunities you've lost when you ended up on racks in Hell. A chance to get rid of the anger filling you and apologize to your son." Dean paused, but Crowley didn't deny anything. He only kept staring at him, mouth clenched tightly. "Now all you can do is destroy. After all, that's the only thing demons are capable of, Crowley. So you cling to this _parody_ of a human live, because you understand that you're nothing more than a worthless piece of shit."

"Careful, boy" Crowley growled through teeth. "You should watch out for who you're making enemies with."

"We _are_ enemies. We always were and we always will be. I don't know anymore how to tell you this, so it finally gets through your thick skull . _I'm_ . _Not_ . _Interested_. Get out."

Crowley remained on the couch for a couple more seconds, defeated, but refusing to admit it. Any trace of arrogance was gone from his face, which became unreadable as a mask.

Once he disappeared, Dean felt like a huge boulder was lifted from his shoulders. Some twisted part of him might always miss the Pit and simplicity of the life without guilt, but now he realized that life of a demon wasn’t as tempting as he thought previously. Crowley’s offer wasn’t for him. Not anymore.

He turned back to Cas and Benny.

“Where was I?” Dean asked.

“You were about to reveal who you chose” Cas offered.

“Right.”

There was no point in beating around the bushes. As much as he hated the idea of hurting his friend and potentially driving him away, Dean knew he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation. He wasn’t the type of a man who could come up with poetic speeches to soothe a broken heart, so he decided to just deal with it as fast and painlessly as possible.

“Benny.”

A shy, warm smile started spreading on his friend’s face.

“I’m sorry” Dean continued, feeling like a bastard when Benny’s smile slowly faded away. He could barely force himself to look him in the eyes. “In any other situation it would be you, but if I have to choose between you and Cas… It’ll always be Cas.”

He could see spasms of pain in Benny’s expression as the vampire struggled to regain composure. Fuck, his friend was suffering and it was all his fault.

“Benny—"

The vampire raised his hand in silencing gesture. “You don’t have to apologize” he assured, but still wouldn’t look at Dean. “I told you before that whatever choice you make, I’ll respect it. I’m just glad you even considered my proposition. That’s all I’ve ever asked for.” After a moment of hesitation, Benny finally raised his eyes at Dean and Cas, offering them a faint smile. “I hope you two will be happy together.”

Having nothing else to add, Benny turned around and left. Dean could only stare at the front door as it closed behind his friend, wondering when – or if – they see each other again.

How come things became so complicated between him and Benny? Back in the Purgatory there was no fear of rejection, no love to mess things around, just the urge to survive and companionship as they fought, slashes and hacked their way through waves of monsters, pure and simple. Nothing to tear them apart.

Yeah, in a way Purgatory was pure.

"Dean."

The sound of gravelly voice calling his name snapped Dean out of the reflection and brought his attention to Cas, who didn't move an inch from his original position, but was looking at him with affection like Dean was an answer to all of world's mysteries, a holly artifact to be treasured. It was the most human expression Cas ever managed to use. Dean faltered, fully realizing that he just agreed to enter a relationship with a man.

"Thank you, Dean" the angel said, practically breathing the words out.

The cold grip of panic returned, but no matter how much it squeezed, it couldn't kill the small particle of joy heating Dean’s heart up as he lost himself in those blue eyes. He realized things would never be perfect as the painful memories refused to die off and kept coming back in his nightmares, but for the first time in years he was willing to try and be happy.

 

***

 

Benny Lafitte loved Dean Winchester.

As he weakly closed the door of his motel room, lacking the strength to put any more force into it, he still could hear Dean’s words that cut his heart into shreds like a knife.

_If I have to choose between you and Cas… It’ll always be Cas._

He knew that’s how it would end. From the moment he ear-dropped Castiel’s confession and found out the angel was also interested in pursuing Dean, Benny _knew_ he didn’t stand a chance.

During their stay in the Purgatory, he and Dean grew close, forging a strong bond and developing deep trust in each other. They eventually reached a point when they didn’t even have to use words to instantly understand what the other was thinking. It was beautiful and Benny enjoyed every second of it, craving the attention after decades of solitude. In hindsight that was the point when he fell for the hunter.

Things changed once they came cross Castiel. Suddenly Dean's entire focus turned toward getting Castiel out of the Purgatory, about making Castiel realize he wasn’t irredeemably evil and worthy of eternal torment in that shithole. Benny stopped to matter beyond leading them to the exit.

Although he knew he didn’t stand a chance, Benny fought relentlessly, because a small part of him wanted to believe that the outcome could be different. That Dean would choose him and make the loneliness that was eating him from the inside go away. Benny cling to those sweet lies and now he paid the price.

He pushed away from the door and stepped closer to the bed. The room was neat, but cold, empty and dedicated only for him. There was nobody out there who could share it with Benny.

Feeling a pricking under his eyelids, the vampire leaned against the bed frame and took a calming breath, but it didn’t bring much relief.

That’s when a flutter of wings reached his ears. One look at the window confirmed it was closed, so why did the flapping sound so clearly?

“Benny.”

He instantly recognized the voice.

“Shouldn’t you be with Dean right now?”

“I wanted to talk” Castiel explained.

Benny braced himself. “About?”

“I cannot apologize for being the one Dean chose as that’s what I desired. But I am sorry for the pain you’re feeling right now. You deserve better.”

He understood that Castiel tried to make things easier for him and he appreciated the sentiment, but frankly, nothing could help.

“Yeah, well. People rarely get what they deserve.”

A silence filled the room. Benny awaited the moment when Castiel leaves with another flatter of wings, but the seconds stretched into minutes and nothing happened.

“Could you promise me something?” the vampire asked eventually.

“It depends on what it is” Castiel answered.

Always so careful and suspicious. Benny snorted as he stood up to look as his guest.

“Make him happy.”

Castiel nodded.

“That is something I can promise.”

 

***

 

Castiel loved Dean Winchester.

And now they could be together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, everyone enjoyed the conclusion. Sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter, but I hit a major writer's block. I'm planning to write a continuation, so if you're interested, keep checking my profile. The next fic should appear somewhere in May.
> 
> Take care!
> 
> \--- EDIT FROM 01.09.2017 ---
> 
> Since I posted some fun facts about writing the sequel, “Gazing Into The Abyss”, I've decided to go back and do the same with this fic.
> 
> The whole idea came to me after I've read though the “Ho Yay” page on TvTropes, where contributors details any instance of sexual tension between characters of the same sex. When I noticed how long Dean's was and that three of men mentioned on the list not only had major role on the show, but also appeared together in eight season, I figured it would be funny to have them one day reveal their feelings for Dean and start entire competition over his heart.
> 
> The original title was “Dean Winchester's Supernatural Admirers”. As you can see, it was very clunky and right from the start I knew I'll change it at some point. I decided on the current title only few minutes before publishing first chapter.
> 
> Initially the story was supposed to end with Dean deciding that “I'm straight, but if it's you, it's okay” and choosing Castiel, but then I started toying with the idea of creating a sequel. By the time I was working on the fifth chapter I had the basic plot planned, so there were first hints toward the story that ultimately became “Gazing Into The Abyss”.
> 
> Castiel's gift in sixth chapter was originally a part of separate fix I was planning to write, but then I figured that such amazing idea would weight chances in his favor and implemented it here instead. In consequence the bit in first chapter about Castiel visiting Zion Canyon went from a simple flavor to set up.
> 
> Similarly Crowley's gift was different as well. He was supposed to offer Dean that demons will stop possessing people completely if he agrees to become Crowley's lover. I changed it for two reasons:  
> 1\. I figured that such idea could cause uproar among demons and Crowley being Crowley would prefer to avoid them;  
> 2\. At this point I already knew what the sequel would be about, so I used that scene to set it up.


End file.
